Seize The Moment
by Basma K
Summary: "My point is, nobody has any idea when they're going to end up dead and even if they reach the extreme, it's still a pretty short life, Claire." Killua crossed his arms behind his neck. "What I'm saying is: we don't have an eternity so what we do is make memories, seize the moment." Killua x OC.
1. Serendipitous

Chapter: 1

* * *

**"Serendipitous."**

* * *

_The drizzle. The wind running wild, the drops on my palms, I'm wet all through, yet my heart is still dry. I search my soul, that is yet incomplete, to find a destination, the one that was meant for me. The breeze tastes the rain, so humid, so pure, which part of my existence is real, I am not sure. The end that I bring is something denied, by not just my heart, but also my rebellious side. My lips are silenced, by that one word, I shall forge my own path, not follow the herd. My soul still waiting, wrapped up in pain, for that one moment, when I shall, find, harmony in the eye of the hurricane._

_Midnight. The creator, the slayer. The initiator, the terminator. The end that meets the blade, the start that touches it ever so slightly. The time that marks the end of the path, but the start that forges its own. _

_Midnight. The enchanted word, magical. Just once said raises belief in the surreal, non-existent. Yet, where it holds magic, it also holds catastrophe. The time where dreams end, hearts break, the depressed lose hope, the dark acquires its complete reign._

_It was a similar night, when it all was written to be, portrayed and carried out by destiny. The haunted night, that tore a soul, broke a heart, took a life. It was the blade, that pierced right through, the flesh, the blood. The voice was merely a whisper, just a blame, demanding reason for betrayal, for pain. The dark's dominion was yet to come, for what was conquered, was not enough. _

_They were flashes, mere echoes, yet only one was the clearest in my memory, the sight of a woman, staring, accusingly, at me. My will already broken, crumpled like sand, as I watched this sight, with blood on my hands._

September, the month. The nine to the twelve, the three less than the dozen. The cold, the frozen. The blow to the chill, the crack to the ice, the flap to the wing, the tick, to the clock. This month, with its particular windy chills and teeth-shattering shower, was considered the most notorious, or what I liked to call it, not serendipitous in the least way. It was the death of nature, the funeral of broken dreams, the revival of oppression and the burial of hope.

It was all that, and more, not just because it was the high school starting month, end of vacations, and when the homework assignments were due, but because it was the particular Zoldyck month. The reaper month, the murderer, the month of the Zoldyck's sovereign, the scythe to the throat of the innocent.

It wasn't just one of those myths you read at the end of the entertainment section of the newspaper, this month with its grey and misty outlook was the pure definition of fear. It was that particular blow that made the flame shiver ever so slightly, yet it was enough to be remembered and avoided. The month that kept you on your guard, the one that casted its shadow on the hearts, forcing the doors to be shut.

Not assumption, but belief. Nearly five years ago, the ten dons were discreetly and secretively murdered, right in the heart of their base, exactly at the most critical time of the annual auction. Needles so brutally, yet in a highly artistic manner were sunk in their flesh, no blood, yet so much foul, chaos, destruction and tragedy, on this very month. Arterius, the capital, the heart and soul of the Gorteau, victim of not murder but massacre, innocent lives not slayed, beheaded, four years ago, on this very month. Toshiro Inazami, grade eleven member of JCI, not killed, assassinated, not in his apartment, not in some deserted street, right in the middle of a national interview, surrounded by his security officers, three years ago, on this very month. Delegates of the independence committee, not executed, eliminated, two years ago, on this very month. Mafia leaders of padokian states, not erased in an extermination, in a bloodshed, one year ago, on this very month.

Culprit? Responsible? Master mind? All them. The Zoldycks. The world's most notorious assassins. Any job no one else could get done, they were called in. Wanted to hire professionals, they were called in. Someone to assure at all costs the execution of the mission, they were called in. Regardless my hate for violence, I couldn't but, if not more, feel admiration towards them, towards their work. How they carried themselves. They killed for a living, and where that was repulsive, it was reality, it was life. Everybody killed for a living, it was just illustrated in different ways. Some stole, some cheated, some black mailed and others lied. In other words, everybody killed, their character, their conscience, themselves, all for a living.

This year was just like any other, with its mysterious and dark outlines, the grey, almost smoky clouds, predicted no good. I took a deep breath and escorted my new rubber boots, which squeaked after regular intervals, rubbing with each other, on the uneven and cracked sidewalk. Eventually I would hear a splash, as the muddy puddles swallowed up my feet, and as they emerged back up, the bottom hems of my jeans felt wet and soaked. Which was, if not anything else, quite refreshing. I glanced once at the sky, the light rays, even though dim, peeked from behind the ominous looking grey blanket of fluff and along with the tiny raindrops, pricked my eyes.

Claire Gaspardo. 17. Haemophobic. Vexatious, annoying and socially awkward. Also very probably falling in the category of nerd, but without the glasses and braces. That's how I'd describe myself, that's who I was.

I buried my hands in the pockets of my jacket, the collar of which was covering about half of my face. My exhales were visible, as they condensed, twisted and took off. I slightly shivered as I walked on, shaking off a bit of excitement, the cold weather made me feel energetic. That's how autumns always were in Noda, the little city, somewhat located in a very very southern side of Eastern Padokia, cold. Population, about 155,644. Not too crowded, not deserted, just perfect, just home.

I took a few more paces and spun around, the automatic doors of the supermarket opened, throwing a gust of warm and stale air right at me. I hurried in, and rubbed my hands together, I wasn't cold, that was just an old habit. Right at one corner, I grabbed a basket from a little column and went through the grocery list once again. I had all the necessary items in about ten minutes, which was just about as long as I was willing to give. I strode though the shelves right to the end, when something in my peripheral vision made me stop. I took a few steps back and smiled at my luck. Right in one corner of the candy section, there it was, the last box of chocolate balls. Without another thought I put my fingers around the little pack and lifted it up. It belonged in my basket, and soon in my stomach, that was it's destiny. I went with the beat in my ears, giddy of my accomplishment. One second it was in my hand, and in the next long, pale fingers were on it.

I looked up at once. A silver-haired boy throwing a murderous glare at me with his sapphire-blue eyes. I pulled out my headphones from my ears. "What's your deal?", I said pulling the box towards me.

"My deal," he said snatching the box from my hand. "Is that these are mine."

"Hey, I saw them first," I said grabbing the box.

"Do they have your name written on them, or does your daddy own the store?"

"It will be written in your blood if you don't let go."

"Hah, look whose talking, the dwarf from cinderella."

"It's snow white, Einstein."

"Couldn't care less, Rambo."

"Lunatic."

"Nutjob."

"Psychopath."

"Screwball."

"Meshuggener."

"Headbanger," he seized the little wrap and raised it to a height which was above my reach

I jumped up once and then twice, but every time he would just lift it higher. "Hey! Let go, give that to me!"

"Nope," he said, making a popping sound at the 'P', which made it even more annoying.

I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. "Ever heard of the saying finders keepers?"

He smirked. "Losers weepers."

I gasped. "You... you... jerk!" I said anger pulsing though me. Why the hell did males have to be so damn tall? I spun around to the cash counter and rubbed my eyes twice to stop the tears, which were beginning to from, from falling.

The doors parted once again and a fresh breeze washed my face. I passed a hand through my hair and welcomed the tiny drops that dissolved on my skin, as I let them filter my brain, and somewhere in the middle of that my anger managed to evaporate.

* * *

As I faced the familiar maple wooden door, with the classic golden glossy handle, I slid the grocery bag from my elbow to my hand and holding my gloves under my chin, I pulled out the keys and unlocked the door.

I strode to the kitchen and left the bag on the counter.

"Claire is that you?"

"No, Rocky Balboa, mom," I said emptying the shopper on the island.

My mom. The classic blonde with blue eyes and a champagne obsession. Also my best friend. She rolled her eyes, she was like a teenager in the body of a thirty year old. She took the milk carton and the eggs and opened the refrigerator with her heel. "Your friend Nora called, I told her you'd call her back, and why did you leave your cell phone at home?"

I sighed. "Mom. I have reasons, she's been bugging me all morning asking me if we need both a compass and a protractor."

She raised her eyebrows. "What did you tell her?"

"To get a life," I said as I turned the basin on to wash my hands.

She giggled. "As a mother, it's my duty to say that that was mean and you should call your friend and apologize."

"But as my pal," I said as I dried my hand with the kitchen towel. "You're just gonna laugh it off and ask me to write these down for you."

She chuckled. "Your father was asking for you."

"Okay," I said as I got out of the kitchen.

"In the study."

I went through the Tv lounge turning of the tv as I went. I took my boots off and threw them on the shoe rack in the corridor and gave three quick raps on the door or the study room, opening it. The knocks were just a formality.

"Honey," my dad smiled. His two dimples coming to life, which made him look twenty years younger than he was. He was the classic Peter Parker looking like father, which black messy hair and glasses.

"Daddy."

He extended his hand out and took mine pulling me forward and kissing me lightly on the cheek, before I sat down on the little club chair at the side of his desk.

"So, college tomorrow, eh?"

"Yeah."

"I presume you've done your homework."

"Yes, about a month ago."

He nodded. "Okay, well since you're always doing your assignment and projects, and you do always fine in school, is there anything you need a parent lecture on?" he asked smiling.

I chuckled. "I.. um... oh, yeah, I just threw my dirty boots, on the shoe rack, without cleaning them."

"That's awful, yes you shouldn't do such things, it's wrong."

"I know, they're really muddy and yesterday, I didn't even make my bed," I informed him.

"You're in trouble missy," he said raising his finger, his voice disappointed.

I sighed. "I'm sorry dad, I know how much you and mom wanna say, you're grounded or no allowance for a month, but... if you want you can do that you, I'd totally be fine with that."

He laughed enthusiastically. "Troubles of having an ideal daughter."

I shrugged and smiled.

His expression turned a bit serious and he took my hands. "Look honey, I know you're satisfied with not having a social life and spending your time studying, but... I want."

"We," my mom corrected as she stood there leaning against the frame of the door.

My dad nodded with a smile. "We, want you to be... a teenager now, go out with your friends and sometimes come late at night and chat with your girlfriends on the phone and give yourself manicures, go shopping and do stuff..." he said guiltily.

I raised my eyebrows. "Unbelievable," I gasped. "You must be the first parents on the planet saying this.", I said shaking my head. "So, basically, you're asking me to try to get into trouble?"

My mom walked to the desk putting both of her hand's on my dad's shoulders. "Well if saying it that way, will make it work, then... yes?" she said as she looked at him.

He nodded, their expressions pleading.

I raised my hands in defeat. "Fine, from now on I'm all trouble and for starters, I'm not gonna do the dishes tonight, know why?"

She shrugged and he lightly shook his head.

I curled my fingers imitating cat claws. "'Cause I'm bad," I said in a whisper.

They both rolled their eyes and all three of us burst out laughing.

My parents. Hachiro and Hana Ajibana. More like my buds, my bros. They were one of those ideal couples people only saw on tv. Married for ten years, yet the heat was still on. Since they were the tv screen perfect parents and couple, and according to them I was the ideal, flawless daughter, we had that family entertainment agenda, like movies and games night.

As I saw it, being a parent was one of the hardest things in the world. Being worried if your daughter is on drugs and sleeps with boys, and still being worried even if she's a social outcast and nerd.

"So... I'll be going to bed," I said glancing at the clock, which indicated it was just eight-thirty.

They both threw accusing looks at me.

"I mean, not like going to sleep... that-that was full time lie, because I'll be doing... ummm... bad stuff," I sighed. "Good night mom, dad.", I said blowing them a kiss.

"Good night honey," they both said in unison.

I spun around heading for the stairs. All I had left for the night was to deal my fucking mind and the nightmares that had been haunting me for almost seven years now. Being saint-like wasn't a choice for me, it was all I had been working for to make up for all that I had done throughout my existence, being exemplary, wasn't an option, it was a necessity.

* * *

"Claire, honey. I know this must be hard for you. I remember when it was my first day in college, I was so scared and... but you, you're gonna do just fine. You need to get out there and show them what you're made of, and if there is anything.."

"Mom."

"And I mean absolutely anything you want to tell me and share with me, I promise honey, I'll be..."

"Mom."

"Here for you, and those college bullies, they're not real, so what if you're a bit younger than your other class fellows, being an honour's student is... an honour! You are..."

"Mom!"

"Yes?"

I sighed. "I'm not scared of school, and this is my first day of my second year in college mom, and I'm getting late," I said my hand placed impatiently on the handle of the car door.

"Right. I'm sorry," she lightly rubbed her temples. "Pick you up at two-thirty?"

"Yeah," I quickly pecked her on the cheek and got out, sliding my bag on my shoulder.

Noda Vyck High. Not just a high school, but more like the high school. In the sense that it was the only high school in the city, no comparison, no competition. A total of about 7000 students. Rookies, bullies, hotties, football captains, cheerleaders, nerds, chess clubs, we had 'em all. It was the exact school you see in movies. That was exactly why I knew I could never fit in, I was more... materialistic, more me.

I tossed my mom one last wave as I saw her car fade into the foggy road, before I could walk on to add another piece of hell to the vapid book of my survival, or simply life.

The halls, even more crowded than last year. I bumped my way through, glancing at the number tags on the lockers and finally sighing out of relief when I found mine. Getting it to open, that was completely another story.

After dropping my books twice and earning scary glares due to accidental bumps, I finally managed to find my class. If you ever took my advice, at school you should be a total ninja. Avoid making eye contact with people, because if they know you, they're gonna either squeak and throw a'bunch of lies of how they missed you in the vacations or either glare at you disgustedly and throw some shitty remarks at you, in each case, you'll end up being embarrassed. In that particular category I had two people on the top of my lists, Nora Hagino and Naomi Kamata in the respective cases.

Nora was that talkative, mostly intolerable competitive geek nerd, and not to mention a complete moron who had no experience in reading signs and body language, because if she did, she'd know I didn't like her. With her I always tried my best to illustrate the theme of "Shoo, go away", while Naomi was that typical cheerleader, not bad with the guys, actually a bit too good, definitely not a virgin, mortal enemy. In other words, my school friends and enemies were the kind you only wanted to see at school, not outside.

"Mhmm," that's what I had been saying for the past ten minutes to Nora's unsufferable comments on how the Ozone layers depletion was not properly typified in the current course text books.

That's when I saw him. That boy, from the supermarket. His messy silver hair pointing in every direction, his hands in his pockets, with a look of extreme boredom on his face. Standing right at his side was a black spiky haired boy, his face was comparatively more round and childish. Not did the boy only stand at his side, but he also looked very comfortable there, fast childhood friends, something one could tell at the first glance.

The boy's ocean like blue eyes scanned the area around. They were frozen, and so was the expression they held, dead. Then his gaze met mine, and his eyes lit up, as if out of amusement and his stare was jammed for what seemed to last forever, and as soon as I regained control of my head I quickly looked away. My brain felt weird and fuzzy, like it was sunk in a swarm of buzzing bees.

I didn't look up from my table, not even when the teacher entered. First days are, for lack of a better word, not very productive. The teachers just sit around doing nothing, the class is a complete mess, and when I say mess, I mean the flying paper airplanes and whistle like mess.

I could feel that boy staring a hole into my face. Eventually I would end up holding my breath for what seemed like a very long time without realizing it. Then I would go back to Mhmming Nora and wishing I'd be in my bed with a nice hot cup of coco and a book.

This was one of those perplexing moments when the ticking of the clock was just a bit too loud and the sweat drops on the back of my neck were just a bit too wet. After five whole circuits of waiting for the bell and sighing when it rang, lunch time came.

Without actually slipping, falling, crashing, bumping or collapsing I passed the left corridor and made it to the library. Not where people usually go for lunch, but reading was like glucose for my blood. The library at this time was almost empty, except for the librarian and a few desperate nerds like me, that's why I liked it. Extremely crowded places made me nervous, that's why I never actually ate in the cafeteria, it was too white, that would be, if I had actually ever seen it, excluding that fact that I had visualized it at times in my nightmares.

I went through the shelves stroking gently the covers of the different volumes and opuses, I was a reading maniac, addict, devotee, aficionado, I had some rules for book selection, the covers indicated quality.

Suddenly in the middle of that enquiry, my boot got caught at a bulge on the carpet, making me stumble and crash against something and bounce back. My impact with the ground was interrupted at nano-seconds by two iron gripped appendages that sprung me back up.

My head went numb and I shook off the rush, placing the occurred events in a suitable enough order. "Woah," I said supporting my head with my hand, like it would fall off any second. "Are you..." I stopped at mid sentence when I recognized the figure in front of me. "You.", I said glaring.

He nodded. "Well isn't this serendipitous," he said raising a silver eyebrow.

I freed myself from his hold and pushed him back. "No, no it isn't! It's not serendipitous, it's the opposite of serendipitous, it's unlucky, it's ominous, you're ominous, you're not serendipitous, you can never be serendipitous, you are the insult of serendipity."

"Woah, slow down. How many times did you say that?"

"Say what?"

"Serendipitous."

"Five times."

"Five times?"

I just stared at him.

"Five times in a single sentence?"

"What are you doing here?"

He leaned his elbow casually against one of the shelves and grabbed a book with the other. "Ah, you know, just hunting for elephants."

The jerk thought he was funny. "I could eat a bowl of alphabet soup and shit out a smarter statement than that," I blurted out in anger. I covered my mouth with my hand. "I'm, I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "Heavy sarcasm we got there, eh? Rambo."

I took a deep breath and spun around.

"Wait," he called.

I just kept walking. Jerks like him were the reason for the depletion of the ozone layer, that's what the text book had missed. Why waste any breath on him anyway?

He accelerated his pace and caught up with me. "What did you say your name was again?"

"I didn't," I said picking up the pile of books I had left on the table.

He shrugged. "Your loss, I'll just keep calling you Rambo then."

I groaned. "Claire. It's Claire," I said through clenched teeth.

He just kept silent and stared amusingly at my me.

"Excuse me, do I have something written on my face?" I said waving my hands across my face.

"Uhh.. what? No," he said shaking his head. "You just remind me of those miniature soldier action figures they made in the old days, you know, the Rambo ones?"

I sighed and clenched my fists, walking towards the door.

Again he just paced along. "The name's Killua by the way."

I pursed my lips and kept walking. Ignore him, he's not real.

"Aren't you gonna say something?"

"Are you always such an idiot, or just when I'm around?"

He cocked his head a bit. "I suppose I'm a natural."

"Well then, Killua-"

"Hayashi.", he added.

"Yes," I said stopping, "Then I'll be on my way, and you better go on yours, it's a big school, I'm sure you can find a number of other people who are, trust me, twice as entertaining, be on your way now, go on, shoo," I spun around.

"I doubt that, you're like a puppy, you know, poke 'em with a stick and they start their growling and biting, and they look so cute when they try to act like they're all dangerous.", he laughed. "Classic."

I gasped. "You... you jerk!"

He spun around and walked away in the opposite direction. Just before disappearing at the end of the hall he gave a slight wave. "See ya'."

* * *

I restlessly shifted on the bed. My head so full of that idiot's babbling. "_You're like a puppy, you know, poke 'em with a stick and they start their growling and biting,"_ Motherfucking jerk. I did over-react and I was quite hyperbolic, but whether you're a fashion diva or a tom boy type, a girl's a girl and we have hearts.

It was just this one year, then I could fly to somewhere far away in Alaska for university and dwell in an igloo with polar bears. God just had to put my patience on the test with this jerk, didn't he? Maybe I could get a plastic surgery and change my name, for safety reasons. There's only so much your brain can take before it will crack.

The dim light of the lam flickered in the dark, concentrating it all on that particular lime coloured glow. Very gently I opened the exceedingly ancient cover of the book and pulled out the little scrap of pale, rough paper, stroking it with my finger tips. I knew the words by heart but reading them out every time made me feel potent, powerful.

_As the light pours in and clears its path with that one diminished ray_

_my heart will wait for that one throb when all the guilt will wash away._

My eyelids collided once, then twice, until they shut down for good. My numb brain welcomed the faintness, the vacant, the chaotic peace. The obscure veil on my conscience was heavy on my breath, and from somewhere far far away, I heard that woman scream.


	2. Acquiesce

Chapter: 2

* * *

**"Acquiesce."**

* * *

_The window glass was ferociously rebelling against the dim moon light, emanating a glorious vista. The war it lost, the ray came in, the war it won, the ray went back. The light breeze only added rush to the fight, it was not only the spectator, but also the commencer. It wasn't a fire starter, but it was only performing its assigned duty, and more efficiently than one would think. The humid touch it brought with it was what excited the clash the most. As each drop fell, for that shortest of moments, the fog lifted, until it stuck back down with yet more obstinancy._

_The wind brought memories, and not just any, but the one's she was desperately trying to forget. It was always the dark, always the dark, that scared her the most, but also, it was home, it was always where, in the end, she had always found herself. When there is no light at the end of the tunnel, the shadow is destiny, when to be gay is not meant to be, sorrow is where one belongs._

_She was yet trying to understand her own state of mind. The clock ticked, imitating each of her beats, but there would always be that on moment when later exceeded the former by a few, and made her capable of defeating that one adversary she had never meant to confront._

_Her eyes were wet, just like every night. The sweat drops were cautiously playing, chilling and freezing, and somehow teasing her skin. The thoughts that twisted and played in her mind were the ones which broke and healed the heart at regular skips, just like every night. Even while just reflecting, she couldn't find her voice, it was somehow lost in all the words she had said, but were still, somehow, incomplete and unsaid._

_The door slowly opened, following a creek, that was so familiar, yet so unwanted at the same time._

_"Will you help me colour this?" the little high pitched, hopeful voice demanded. The owner revealed herself in the only fascio di luce that dominated the central space. The black locks of her coal black hair, revealed shades of blue in the faded light, her similarly shaded, questioning, eyes created a perfect match. Her unibrow, which added grace to her looks, was slightly furrowed. Her feet were co-ordinated at the perfect plane, separated by a fair enough distance. The little seven year old girl looked naive, innocent, just as all the children of her age were supposed to be, yet her gait, her cautious manner, if one could read it, indicated perfectly her mature and adult mentality. _

_One of her hands slightly held up, suporting the printed and smooth cover of the white-coarse paged book. The other, which she kept straight firm infront of her chest, showed the neatly held and kept set of bright crayons, some with exposed heads between her small fingers and the others with straight-cut ends._

_She wiped the tears with the back of her hands and sniffed a few times to assure herself that she had dealt with what she needed to deal. "Get out," she spat. _

_The little girl's gaze dropped. It had always been this way. She knew she could never be considered a human by her, neverthless her own sister. Every breath she took, every word she said was reasonlessly detested by her. She was innocent, she had no fault, she was no culprit, yet she was always the one with the stained hands. What she felt for her, couldn't even be considered a grudge, a grudge seemed somehow more meaningful than her emotions for the little girl. "Why won't you play with me?"_

_"I said get out!"_

_"Api, can't we be friends?"_

_"Don't call me that, get out!" she said standing up._

_The little girl took a few steps back. "I don't like you, you're not a good sister."_

_The words were meant to hurt, but they only brought wrath, not pain. "I hate you." she said flatly. "I hate you. I don't wanna be your friend, and I'm not your sister. I loathe you, I absolutely detest you, why won't you leave me alone?"_

_The hurt in the little girls eyes began to show, until it materialized into something more real, the glint in her eyes twisted once and the tears appeared prominent on her fair skin. This wasn't the first time, and this was how it always had been. She knew she had no chance in achieving a place in her heart yet she just couldn't bring herself to quit, she just couldn't not hope. _

_Her pain was nothing to her. The tears were meaningless, worthless, and neverthless she threw her a glance of pure hate, the most burning ember of the fire, the core to the lava._

_The little girl clentched her tiny fists, holding her posessions tightly. "Claire, Claire, she still sleeps with her teddy bear, and she's so mean she's got witches' hair," she stuck her tongue out and ran out of the room. _

_"Katie! Get lost!" she shouted after her, her hands automatically grabbed the first thing that was in her reach and with all her force she threw the hair brush at the empty corridor wall. _

_"I'm gonna tell big brother!" the little girl called from somewhere far away._

_"I don't care! Go away!"_

_And that was the end of a conversation that had no start, it was fuel to a fire that had an unknown source. She shut the door behind her, and went back to the window, to face another, much worse opponent, herself._

* * *

I am strong, I am brave, I am confident. I am all that, and more. I'm not a wiener, I eat wieners for breakfast. I am outgoing, I am fearless, I am... aww who the hell am I kidding? I'm just me, boring old Claire Gaspardo. The one with the plain face, whose name everybody forgets as soon as they've heard it, who falls down alot and has that one screw missing, who is absolutely and completely ordinary. The one nobody says sorry to when they accidentally, or purposedly knock her down, the one that's invisible. The one nobody picks for their douge ball team because she sucks at sports, the typical teenage mediocre.

Brunette, chestnut brown eyes and pale skin. 5'6, 92 pounds , seventeen and five months. Straight A student, and I never missed a class in my life. Sarcastic miracle and a lousy partnter. I was, in other words, a mess. A goofy-boring kind of mess.

"That's it, full fledge assignment on the Civil Rights Movement, and it's due tomorrow!" our history teacher's squeaky voice throbbed in my ear drums breaking my train of thought.

The whole class groaned in unison. Fuck at the end of the day, check.

"Professor." Killua's clear velvet voice caused complete silence in the room.

The teacher's eyes glowed and her expression immediately lit up. If that gorgeous-looking fucking jerk could bribe us out of this, I would hate him a bit less.

"I propose this assignement to be altered into a group project."

My mouth fell open. The boys watching him with astonishment, while the girls' eyes drooping with admiration.

"That would, I am most sure, raise some enthusiasm in accoplishing the task."

The teacher's expression turned perplexed. She once scanned the whole classroom with her button-like black eyes and then turned back to him. "I suppose you are correct Mr. Hayashi," her voice gentler than fluff.

The asshole tossed her a full on seductive smile. "Killua," he said.

She blushed red and nodded, pleased with her achievement. For heaven's sake, she had children! "Well then, everybody, you are all now partnered up with your seat fellow, I expect some great team work, I'm sure nobody here would want to ruin their grade record at the start of the year."

Killua coughed, once again catching everyone's attention. "May I put forward one more request?"

"Yes, ofcourse," she breathed.

"Since I am new to this projects and assignements system, I implore you partner me up with a student that is able to properly guide me and instruct me through these methods."

She just kept staring at him like an idiot.

He coughed again. "Am I not right?"

"Uh... yes, yes, I think that is a very, very, very good idea, is... there anybody in particular you are willing to work with? Unless if you prefer that I myself lead you and..."

"Oh, no, no," he said quickly. "I couldn't take that much advantage of your kindness, I am sure Miss Gaspardo can most efficiently conduct me in this particular field?" he said looking at me.

I stared at him with my mouth open.

The teacher threw me a noxious glare and nodded. Bah, we were never going to get along anyway. "Well, then."

"Professor," I said standing up. "I am very sorry but, I already have a partner, and I don't think I'm cut out for this... I wouldn't wanna mess up his base or anything," my voice was a bit hysteric.

"I have no objection to that," Killua said. "It is only fair you are granted a chance, and besides, nobody's perfect," he shrugged.

I glared at him.

The teacher looked once at me, and then at him. He winked at her and she blushed tomato red. For all the... "Killua is right," the teacher interjected. "You are a straight A grade student, let's put those brains to use, Miss Gaspardo," huh, one moment he's Mr. Hayashi, in the next he's Killua, and in the next they have kids.

I sighed and nodded. "Wonderful," I said under my breath.

The bell rang, earning a curse from me, it could have rung earlier and saved me a full jerk included afternoon.

"You are all excused."

I rushed out of the class room. Maybe if I disappeared into thin air, and didn't show up at school tomorrow, faking an illness, I could get out of this.

Right in the middle of my escape I was awarded with a royal push which made my books fall right out of my arms and on the ground. I faced the kind stranger.

"Get out my way, bitch," Naomi said in her vicious voice.

Great, just great. Now I had to even pay the consequences of accidentally stealing girls' heart throb. Magnificent. "Thanks," I murmured as I leaned down to pick my books up.

A set of hands, which had already piled them up, handed them to me.

I looked up and sighed. Getting up I stuffed the books in my bag.

"Seriously? You thanked her and not me?" Killua asked in a fakely hurt voice.

I walked past him. Ignoring him was best for my mental health.

"Don't tell me your still mad about the chocolate balls?"

I laughed once without humour and turned to him. "No, no. I am not still mad at you about the chocolate balls, infact I think they should make cannon balls for jerks like you so they can fit in and shut that huge mouth of yours!"

He grimaced. "That's not very creative," he said disappointed.

"Seriously? You really wanna talk about balls, and types of balls? I recommend you not to, because that will just make me want to kick you in that ultimate place that much, and trust me those balls when wounded, are not sweet."

His eyes widened and I paced forward.

"Not so fast, partner," he called from behind.

I slowed down my pace. "What do you want?"

"Nothing, partner, I just wanted to ask you, partner, where you wanted to meet up, for the assignment, you know, partner."

"Could you stop saying that."

"Saying what, partner?"

"Partner."

"Yes, partner, what did you want me to stop saying?"

"Partner, stop saying it."

"Stop saying what, partner?"

I groaned. "Screw you."

He chuckled. "You look so ferocious when you swear, like an angry kitten."

Great, being compared to domestic animals, that was daily routine now. "How charming," I sighed and took out a piece of paper from my bag. I clumsily scrawled on it and handed it to him. "If you have nothing better to do, show up at this adress this afternoon at five."

"Then I'll see you there part..."

"Say that one more time, and you'll be sorry," I actually managed to make my voice sound threatening.

He grimaced and walked away, throwing me his casual wave.

* * *

"Yes mom, it's totally fine, don't worry, I can walk to school by myself," I assured my mom for the tenth time, after she told me how she got late to work this morning.

"Are you sure? Actually its just this once, I have a meeting tomorrow so.."

"The school is two blocks away, we don't live in a jungle, the chances of me dying in car accident are lower than the chances of me getting a B, so please. Chill out."

She sighed. "Okay, still be careful."

I glanced at the clock. Nearly five. I got up. "Mom, I have a classmate coming over for an assignment."

"Oh. Okay."

I ascended the stairs. "And mom, please I beg you, no calling me honey or sweetheart, just Claire and no asking me if I need anything.", I walked to my door placing my hand on the knob. "Oh, and no milk and cookies!" I called.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine!"

I walked in shutting the door behind me and sighed.

"But I like milk and cookies," Killua said as he was sitting casually on my bed.

I backed away, startled, hitting my head against the door. I gasped, putting my hands on my head.

"Are you okay?" he said getting up heading towards me.

"What are you.." I breathed heavily. "How did you, how did.." I placed my hand infront of me signaling him not to move.

"Through the window," he said answering my incomplete question.

I glanced once at the open window and heaved a sigh. "Fuck. We have a door you know."

He shrugged.

I straightened myself up and walked to my desk, sitting down on the chair. "Okay, so I acquiesced in this dumb decision, so I expect you to behave, and... and you're so shameless," I said recalling what had happened at school.

"What?"

"I mean, flirting with a married woman, mother of two kids, is that normal?"

He chuckled. "Many things must be done, to get the job done."

"What job? And why the hell do you have to complicate my life like this?" I said placing my hand on the mouse.

"Me?"

I inhaled deeply, this conversation was not gonna go anywhere, except maybe I would end up in jail for commiting a mass murder. "Anyway, I already have a couple of ideas picked out, for the assignement. I was thinking of making it deep, like it needs to have a bit of everything and I think we should include the background, I mean how it all started and..."

"It's a group project," he interjected. "People collaborate in these things, like ask each other's opinion and stuff," he said while moving his eyes up and down like he was talking to an abnormal person.

"Well," I said smiling at him. "I'd like to see things from your point of view but I can't seem to get my head that far up my ass."

His eyes widened.

"So, why don't you let me do all the.." I said waving my hand between the computer screen and my self. "Gathering, and you do all the writing."

"God, such a hoe," he said annoyed.

I glared at him. "Shut up."

The door opened, interrupting our highly productive clash. "Honey, you left your.. oh," my mom said as she spotted Killua on the bed. She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you.."

"It's fine mom, this is Killua," I said pointing towards him.

My mom nodded and smiled at him and his answering smile was quite formal. "Claire, here, you left your cell phone downstairs," she said handing it to me.

I got up and took it nodding. "Thanks."

She mouthed the word, "Sorry," just before she left shutting the door behind her.

I went back to the chair shaking my head. There was a complete silence except for the ticking of the keyboard keys.

"You look alot like your mother," Killua said after a while. Hah, trying to do small talk. Classic.

I burst out laughing.

"What?" he asked confused.

"You know," I said between giggles. "Such moments are priceless, when jerky liars like you get caught red handed."

"What?" he asked again perplexed.

"I was adopted, moron."

"Oh," he mused.

I shook my head smiling and turned back to face the monitor.

"So, what happened to your parents?"

"They died in an accident when I was ten," I said absent mindedly.

"Did you have any siblings?"

I looked up at him and grimaced. "Seriously? Out of all the people in the world, you expect me to tell YOU, my life's miserable story?"

"Yeah, I do actually," he shrugged.

"And why is that?"

"Well, I don't know, I read once, that it's easier to confess to people you don't like."

"You think I don't like you?" I said in an innocent voice.

"I guess."

"Well, then you are very right, actually very very right," I said pleased.

He rolled his eyes.

"I.. had a... sister and a brother," I said after a while. The silence was too much to take.

"Okay."

He wasn't asking me anything. Why wasn't he asking me anything? "My sister died, and I don't know what happened to my brother," I kept mumbling.

He nodded.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" he asked bored.

"I mean, what about your family, or were you raised by bears?"

"I have... four brothers.", he said disgusted.

"Cool," this conversation just got a degree more awkward. "Are they polar, like you, or grizzlies," I said clicking with the mouse.

He just threw me an look of disbelief.

"What?" I asked looking once between him and the screen. "I was talking about the-the hair," I said waving my hand above my head.

"Oh, no, no.. they're all... grizzlies," he shrugged.

"So, where did you get that hair colour?" I said examining his hair.

He raised his eyebrows. "Why?"

I met his gaze. I had no answer to that.

His phone rang, breaking the quietude. He checked the caller id and picked it up. "What is it Gon?", he listened carefully. "Well, where's your partner?" he sighed. "No," he rolled his eyes. "No Gon, your text book is not misprinted... that's not english and numbers mixed, it's called algebra."

A giggle escaped my mouth.

Killua raised an eyebrow at me and I bit my lip.

He sighed. "Fine, what?" he groaned. "You did what?" his eyes widened. "Wait, stop, no, don't do that. I'll be right there," he said and snapped the phone shut and got up.

"Who was that?" I asked him as he put his shoes on.

"My cousin."

"The one whose always with you at school?" I enquired.

He arched an eyebrow and smirked. "You snoop on me don't you?" he asked, a smile in his voice.

"What? Shut up."

"Yeah he is."

I snorted.

"What?"

"The one with the black hair, brown eyes?"

"Yeah, yeah that one."

"He's YOUR cousin?"

"No, he's your son," he said tying his laces hurriedly.

"Gimme a break."

"You think I'm lying?"

"Sheesh what? No, ofcourse not, I don't think your lying," I said sarcastically. "I know your lying," I said with a serious expression.

He shrugged. "Well I better get scooching," he said glancing at his wrist watch, like he was James Bond or something.

I crossed my arms around my chest. "I'd ask you to stay, but I'm in good mood right now."

He smiled. "I will get back to you on that," he promised and just like that he disappeared out of the window leaving me with my mouth open.

I hurriedly looked outside, nothing. The streets were empty. God, who the hell was this guy?

_I lifelessly stare out of the glass, my heart and soul like ice_

_the melancholy that I abortively hide gleams clear in my vacant eyes._

* * *

For all of you who have read these two chapters a massive thank you. I have worked really hard on this fanfiction and hope it can entertain you. I will be updating once each month. Wanna share your views? Beep, please review.


	3. Wrangle

Hi guys. Here I am, with another chapter. I'm really doubtful about this one but I still hope you guys like it. First of all I would like to thank Lyra Klaude, who is literally the best writer I have ever know for advertising this fanfic on tumblr, you're awesome! And a special thanks to KiGaMin for the amazing, amazing reviews. I really hope you like this chapter, this fanfic has been giving me sleepless nights. Anyway, here's an advice, whisper-read the parts written in italic it makes them sound mysterious and creepy. Once again thank you for reading so.. dig in!

* * *

Chapter: 3

* * *

**"Wrangle."**

* * *

_The pitch-black shroud of the night emanated a melted gloom. The inky surroundings when inhaled, suffocated her adrift heart. The wind whispered her unknown words, and the rustling leaves caressed her vapid soul, taking her mind far far back. The moon was a mere scythe, that threatened to cut the attenuated figure of her life. Promptly, if possible, the black aquired a darker shade, leaving her disoriented and unconcious._

_Her steps were heavy, but they somehow dissolved into the shadow, and vamoosed with the fluxing coal black breeze._

_A slight but intense humming began, which seemed to suck all the breath out of her. Her instinct indicated danger, but her heart was appealed, and tailed the soothingly threatening sound._

_The walls were icy, but her palms glued to them, the heat was neither lost, nor absorbed as both the surfaces were deeply frozen._

_A screech. A pitch, more painful than nails on a chalk board, an exhale, injured with roughness. The humming would flow away as the howling screech broke its rhythm regularly. _

_She kept walking. Each pace drew her closer. With each, step, her conscience screamed a bit louder, begging her to stop. Then the soul draining sight, brough her to a halt._

_Candles. Blood. The glinting marble, on which each drop oozed in harmony with the other. The sight was blurred. She did not have the strenght to recollect herself. Then the coal black eyes, without any trace of white met hers. The blue, beetle shell gleam they held was like the crecent moon. There was no proof she was alive, for she stood still, her figure showed no sign of life, except the regular blinks that she gave with her thickly lashed eyes._

_"You live," said the monstrous voice coming from the little girl's lips. "I don't."_

_She drew back, her back hitting the wall. Her breathing waved away, her voice was lost._

_The little girl moved closer causing the other to slam deeper against the wall. She took her hand in her blood coated palms, with the gentlest touch, like the sweetest lick. Her tiny wrist deeply gashed._

_She wanted to protest, she needed to rebel. She wanted to rapidly vanish in the vacant night but her body did not obey the commands her numb brain gave. The circuit was not complete, her head was not connected and her limbs felt lifeless, not her own._

_"The accused, takes the blame," said the child smiling, her teeth blood stained. "A murder will be granted, no altering the faith's design," she closed her eyes. "Until the truth is revealed, but the rest is too dark to see, too dark to see," she said frowning._

_She screamed. Her throat opposed, but she screamed. Her heart was bursting, her life felt hollow. She pushed her away, her back scratched against the rough surface, but all the pain felt bearable at the moment. "Stay away from me," she said glancing at the sides, searching for an escape."Stay away from me!"_

_The child's body lifted ever so slightly as her amused expression turned addled. She blinked continously, each time the blue glow shifted slightly higher, until the dark was kneaded by the pale white, that regained its rightful position. The small girl looked disoriended, as if the former actions were not her own. Her eyes demanding, questioning, the reason of the horrified expression that dominated her sister's face. "I'll protect you," she promised, ignorant of the current situation, but the love she felt for her radiated clearly in her soft voice._

_Her eyes liquified and she pushed her away. "You're a freak! Stay away from me," she backed away. "You're a monster, you're a monster, go away, don't touch me," her voice almost pleading._

_The little girl smiled, as the rejection no longer hurt. "I'll protect you, you will live," and just like that her eyes shut and she dropped to the ground. Her expression was peaceful as she restored dominance of her own conscience._

* * *

Fuck. The one term which can always help you express your inner shit. Fuck, perfect for every occasion. Lost your keys? Fuck. Found your keys? Fuck. Got grounded? Fuck. Got ungrounded? Fuck some more. Just had sex? Fuck. Being a random, sick of life, teenage mediocre, fuck. The word was royal, very offhand.

I lightly rubbed my eyes as I stuffed my books in my bag after the lunch bell.

"Claire? Are you coming?" Nora asked in another one of her attempts to drag me to the cafetaria.

_Shut the fuck up and get lost. _"Nah, you go on ahead," I said faking a smile.

She nodded and walked away.

I sighed. Thursdays made me feel like my skeletal arrangements had been altered into those of a marshmellow. There was a whole hour of P.E, which meant that I had to come up with a better excuse to skip through it, than the last one. I wasn't a gym person, but the main reason was that I was somehow always targeted by the douge ball, or whatever sport material available, like the bull and the red cape.

Most of my aimless life's miseries began at the mid term of the fifth grade. The day I turned eleven, my mom started to sign me up for after school activities as the nerd germs were starting to show. She stubbornly got me into the school's play on Dante Alighieri's novel, but that was until my stage phobia was poked to life, five minutes into the opening song and I threw up, gaining myself a severe number of haters and ruining-the-moment gurdges.

When I was thirteen, I was the only girl in my grade who had braces and didn't wear a bra, which dramatically decreased my already zero popularity level, I fell down during volley ball and tennis try outs and I was one of the five girls who didn't make it in the cheer leading team.

The only thing I was good at, was reading and minor technology matters, but nobody handed out prizes or rewards for that. So, after going through two straight years of trying and failing, in and out and good but not good enough, my mom gave up and good heartedly accepted the fact that she would never get the chance to applaude along with the audience at her daughter's first play, or ballet recitals, or anything else related to that category as a matter of fact, and settled in for supporting me in being who I was, a nobody.

I stood up, staring confusingly at the set of bright blue eyes infront of me. I blinked twice, and he did the same.

I raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Killua winced and shook his head. "Nothing," he sighed. "I couldn't make it to my literature class this morning because I got lost," he said in a business like manner, like it was my fault.

I snorted. "So?"

He raised an eyebrow. "So, the staff administrator told me to ask someone to show me around."

"So?" I challenged.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "So, if your hoe-iness would please do the honours."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes. "No, no, no, there is no way..." I stopped at mid-sentence as it struck my brain. "Wait, could you get me excused for the next period?" P.E, I could skip P.E. My voice got sugar coated on its own.

He cocked him head a bit. "Maybe."

"Then what are we waiting for?" I grinned and took his hand dragging him to the corridor.

He rolled his eyes. "You're a demon."

"Show me your schedule." I said holding out my hand.

He dug a hand in his pocket and took out a small parchment, handing it to me.

I examined it briefly. "Okay," I walked forward, as he followed.

I could barely hear him walking behind me, like his feet never made contact with the floor, and I continuously glanced back, just to make sure he was still there.

I showed him the classes, the detention room, and the science labs, merely earning bored and dull nods.

"You know, for a guy who shits more with his mouth than the ass, you're awfully quiet sometimes," I murmured as we walked past the corridor.

"I must say, your attempts at starting a normal conversation are quite peculiar," he said in a bored voice.

"You're implying?"

"If a natter is what you want, you should ask nicely."

I snorted. "Okay, where is he? I'll ask him right away."

He rolled his eyes. "How humorous," he mumbled.

"Well, pardon me for failing to entertain someone having the wit of a seventy-year old," I huffed.

He chuckled. "It's sad, seeing you trying to use your whole vocabulary in a single sentence."

I glared and sticked my tongue out at him, but in the middle of the act I stumbled on my own feet and almost fell, until he hurriedly caught my elbow.

He helped me up. "By the way you walk, I'd compare you to a handicapped penguin," his eyes teasing. "Or a whale with feet," he said thoughtfully.

I scowled at him. "Shut up. I don't walk funny."

"I didn't say that, you just have a very distinctive plod."

I sighed. It was still unknown from who I had inherited my balance problems. "Wipe your mouth Killua, I think there's a tiny bit of bullshit on your lips," I mumbled.

He snickered and shook his head. When we reached the end of the hall he stopped infront of a beige painted wooden door, like it was familiar to him.

I looked between him and the door once, a bit perplexed. "This is Mr. Isawa's office, he's our philosophy lecturer, but he's not taking over until next..." I began explaining.

"Kiyeshi Isawa," he said, not as a question, but as a confirmation.

All I could do was nod.

For a brief moment I saw Killua's eyes harden, until he masked them with an unammused look. In the next second he was turning the knob with an exteremely casual look on his face.

"What are you doing?" my voice a bit hysteric.

"It's locked," he said seriously.

"Yeah, why?"

He tried the knob one more time and peeked through the key hole.

I glanced once at the revolving security camera and wondered if we'd get caught for bunkers if it spotted us, then again even if we did, the sexy looking bastard could get us out no problem. I blinked, and just as I parted my lips to speak, the bell rang.

He looked up and then at me. His gaze was so intense I had to look away. He took out his cell phone and glanced once at the screen, checking the time maybe. "I have to go," he said.

"Okay," was all I could manage to say. I was surprised at myself, at how those words weren't as good as they sounded, why didn't I want him to leave? I watched him as he walked away.

Suddenly he stopped and turned back. "Claire."

It was the first time he had ever said my name, I felt butterflies in my stomach. Did it always sound that grand or just coming from him? "Yeah?" I breathed.

"Thanks," his voice tender and genuine, like he really meant it.

I just nodded, even though I had no idea what he thanked me for, lacking the breath to do anything else. My brain was jammed, like cheese and gravy coated. I spun around and walked on, wondering if waving him off like he usually did would make me look cool and casual, and immediately dropped the thought remembering how poised I actually was, and what were the chances of that looking hot with me doing it, I had to admit, he had the ass for the back poses.

* * *

"Fine," I said to the librarian as she handed me the library keys, after she told me I was assigned the duty of oraganizing the library this month, and most probably the months after, which basically meant I had to spend an extra half an hour at school, making sure all the books were in the right places, or simply fuck. Eight manure coated classes plus a royal bonus of extra work, splendid, I absolutely loved this year.

"Don't lose them," she warned in her rough voice.

_How shitfully polite of you to hand down your work to me and then even have the fucking guts to comment on it. _"Okay."

She threw me one last deterrent glance and then disappeared.

As soon as she was out of sight I sticked my tongue out in her direction. "Bitch," I almost bawled.

Her head popped out near the door frame again. "Did you say something?" she asked lowering her huge glasses down to her nose.

My eyes widened. "No.", I said convincingly shaking my head.

She seemed to buy that as she nodded and strode away.

I shook my head and heaved a huge sigh, I was such an idiot. Counting the mess of opuses on the table, I arranged them alphabetically. These were the kind of troubles you faced if you were an unsocial freak, I was some kind of a school drudge.

There are simply two ways you live life, either you have a life and you have to fake smiles to people you don't like, have sex in bathrooms and always somehow lose count of how many boys you had a potent physical interaction with, or you don't have a life and you never get noticed by people enough to fake them smiles, you secretly read books in the bathroom while hearing the moans and gasps of the sexually occupied and you are, most embarassingly a kissing virgin.

"You dropped these," an unexpectedly familiar voice whispered in my ear as the owner's hand presented me the keys of the library, which I had just been handed.

I got starteled and took an involuntary step back, accidentally stepping on his foot. "Bah."

"Ouch," Killua said backing away.

I turned to him. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, really, did that, did that hurt?"

"No, not at all, I'm on local anesthesia, why don't you try that again?" he said rolling his eyes.

I smacked his shoulder.

He winced. "What?"

"Shut up, why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

I shrugged. "I don't know... pop out of no where," I said gesturing with my hands.

"Actually, you're always so lost in thought its easy for anyone to be mistaken for houdini by you, you're extremely unobservant," he shrugged.

I rolled my eyes. "Shock me Killua, say something intelligent."

"Even if I did, how would you know?" he said, imitating me.

"You're such a moron."

"I know you are, but what am I?" he smirked.

"Wow, your mother must be so proud."

"Oh, yeah, you have no idea."

I pursed my lips and smiled. "I don't mean to be rude, but shut up and fuck you," I said handing him a set of books and baconed him to follow me. If all he really was going to do was piss me off, he could do it along with something productive.

He rolled his eyes and walked behind me.

I took a book from his hand and placed it in the shelf and kept walking. "So, why are you here anyway?" I asked half annoyed, half something else I failed to identify.

"I.." he said looking uncomfortable. "Brought you lunch," he said pointing to the table at the center of the room.

I followed his gaze where a wrapped up sandwitch and water bottle were sitting inertly. "What?" I said looking between him and the food. "Wha, why?" I felt some part of my heart melt and come back to life. Oh my gosh, what was this boy doing to me? And why the hell was he doing it to me? Was it possible, did I? Could I? Like him? Why would a guy like him, ever notice whether a girl like me, did or didn't eat anything. I shook my head. I needed to say something that made it sound blasé, but my emotionally sensitive side was kicking to life.

Ofcourse he had to ruin it all with the next words that came out of his mouth. "To stuff in the public toilets, they're out of shit," he said annoyed.

I sighed. Crap will always be crap, until it turns into shit, that was where he came in.

"You can say it, you know," he said after a few minutes of silence.

"Say what?"

"That you hate me."

"I don't hate you Killua."

"You don't?" he asked bewildered.

"No, I don't, I'm just not necessarily excited or pleased with your existence, that's all," I shrugged. "Which, I guess is the same thing, oh, hey wait, I do hate you," I said, a smile in my voice.

He rolled his eyes. "That could change, you know." he said as he followed.

"I'm positively sure it couldn't, you have a shit of a personality."

"And that's bad?"

"No, shit's not bad, it's good, and so is your personality, just... not for a human being, which makes me wonder, as an outsider what do you think of the human race?"

He raised an eyebrow, which already prepared me to expect one of his shitty comebacks. "I would ask you the same thing, but first tell me, how long have you had the delusion of being human?" he said smirking.

I glared at him. "Bastard."

He chuckled. He had a charming laugh, not that I liked it or anything.

Both of us remained silent, he would only hand me the books and I would place them quietly.

"Where did you live before?" I had no idea why I asked him that, somehow silence with him around just did not get to me.

"Aiden," he mumbled quickly, clearly unconfortable.

"Where's that?"

"Gorteau."

"Why did you come here?" _why did you ask that?_

He remained silent, which made me worry a bit about being too nosey.

"I mean, at the second year of college, like dropping in mid semester and.." _make it casual, make it casual. Oh, wait, you suck at that._

"I have personal reasons," he said seriously.

I dropped my gaze, unsuccessfully ignoring the embarassment that was flooding in. Why did I always have to do that? Why did I always try to make this-is-not-going-anywhere conversations with him?

"Is the weather always like this here?" fake curiousity was thick in his voice as he lamely tried to change the subject.

"Yeah," I said, my voice a bit shaky due to the lump in my throat.

The bell rang pushing aside a very awkward conversation.

I took the books from his hand. "Thanks," I said and walked to the desk only to see that Killua hadn't moved an inch. "What?" I asked him.

He furrowed his eyebrows, like he was trying to pick out the right words. "Can I walk you home?"

I shot up my eyebrows. A wrangle started in my brain, as one part of my mind wanted to know where I had left my book of ultimate excuses, while the other was begging me to agree. I blinked. "That's a very... unforseen question, I mean coming from you," I concluded.

"Is that a yes?"

"Technically.. no."

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"No," I crossed my arms on my chest.

"Yes?"

"No."

"Yes?"

"No!" my voice got louder.

"No?"

"Yes!" I shouted. "I mean no! Fuck you!"

"Yes?", he smirked.

"Yes, yes, yes you whore, yes, walk me home!" I hollered, breathing heavily.

His raised his hands signaling me to stop, his smirk fixed at its place. "Okay, okay, calm down, If it means that much to you, I'll walk you home," he rolled his eyes.

My chest rapidly moved in and out and I rubbed my face, closing my eyes. Major temper complications. "Idiot," I said gritting my teeth.

I heard him chuckle, ammused, I supposed. "You coming?"

"Get lost, I am."

I shook my head, in an attempt to clear it up a bit. I was emphatically sure now that there were only two reasons why I would die, either out of a caridiac arrest of how he suddenly appeared out of nowhere or out of a brain hemorrhage due to these meaningless and idiotic wrangles which were a result of his bitch-ish poking.

"Asshole," I muttered under my breath and strode out of the room with heavy steps. Nope it couldn't be, I was wrong. I absolutely did not like him.

_My heart still burning, yet the emotions get drier_

_I feel consumed, as my destiny is this fire._


	4. Maverick

Chapter: 4

* * *

**"Maverick."**

* * *

_The embers ran wild, as they twisted and took off, the energy they radiated was all consumed by the hatred, as they dazzled and gleamed, while their luminous existence was annihilated by the same fire that birthed them. The ashes held agony, as they burnt and died,the last of their breaths were glows that ran wild._

_The cinders spoke unknown words to her heart, as her fingers stirred the warm air, the little sparks writhed unevenly until they dropped and embraced their end._

_There would be that one flicker, and it seemed as the flame was startled by her thoughts, it flabbergasted and resumed its pattern, until once more it seized its motion and shivered before her._

_The scarlet bricks appeared almost as melted, the skim of the heat struck and slid off the ancient walls. These were the bricks that made the roof under which she had always found herself, and made the floors on which she had always walked. She detested the terra cotta and fabric like scent of the edifice, it held memories, she absolutely detested it._

_"Lift me up big brother!, the little girl's merry voice called, and then there would be laughter. "Higher! Higher!"_

_Her eyes felt thawed in the fire place, as she watched the ashes and the cinders, her back to the world._

_She heard claps, and the surfaces strike, and each step of hers injected malevolence in her heart, her chest heavy, her mind far away, yet closer than each breath they took._

_"Api," a small hand shook her shoulder, catching her out of her thoughts._

_She faced the small child. Her eyes momentarily got lost in the dark chocolate pools and melted, as just for that brief moment she saw all that could have been, and then the aversion flowed back in, through the smallest of pores and she realized it was all that could have been, all she could have been, but was not, and never would be. She turned back to the buoyant flame that swallowed the tiny chips of wood._

_"Api, play with us, please," the little girl's voice was pleading._

_She felt the warmth stroke her face slightly whipped by the surrounding air. The heat was hell, but hell was home, so it felt pleasant to her empty soul._

_She felt flesh lightly caress her arm. The rage broke in and her will felt weak as she ferociously knocked off the little girl's cautious hand._

_The child gasped, her coal black locks shivered with her movement._

_"That's enough Katie, come back," the commanding male voice ordered._

_The girl did as she was told, and hid behind a tall figure, the shadow of which ever so slightly kissed the end of the wall._

_"You are nothing, you are a disgrace to this family," he spat._

_She smiled, and she could taste the bitterness of the words which would follow even before her mind had sought them out. She felt all the loath and poison inside her melt on her tongue and materialize into the dirt they were. "Shut up, son of a bitch.", she could picture just how his eyes widened, though she was not facing him, and she could almost hear that click, when his teeth gritted together, and how he was trying to supress the rage he felt._

_He took steady and deep breaths. "I won't allow you to use that kind of language in this house, mind your manners Claire, I'm warning you."_

_Her eyes widened and she faced him, the fake expression of shock painted on her face. "What family? What house?" she asked ammused. "What manners?", she laughed once. "This isn't a family, it's a herd of bastards, this house," she said stading up pointing at the walls. "It's not a house, these damn bricks were glued together with blood, innocent people's blood," she closed her eyes and smiled once more. "Manners.." she said thoughtfully. "What manners? Who taught me manners?" she spat. "Where's my mother?" she said drilling her gaze into his perplexed eyes. "Where's your mother? Where's her mother?" she whispered pointing at the little girl who peeked from behind her brother's back._

_There was a long silence. She could hear each word in his thoughts, as it waved around with the chilly breezes. The little girl blinked in confusion staring continuously between her sibling's dead expressions._

_"It's funny, right?" she asked, her smile fixed in place. "How I can't say OUR mother," she laughed and shook her head. "This isn't a family," she said walking to the window. She leaned her elbows on the cold marble and felt the cooling breeze stroke her face and wipe away the bitterness. "I'm not a disgrace," she said recalling the words he had used earlier. "That thing is," she said indicating the seven year old little girl standing behind him._

_He clentched his fists. "Shut up Claire."_

_"Ask her, ask that thing if it's human."_

_"Shut up."_

_"She's not normal, stop trying to cover up for her."_

_"Shut up! She's a little girl, stop trying to destroy her life, she's your sister!"_

_She let out a deep breath. "She's no sister of mine, you live up with that lie," she passed a hand through her hair. "Why wont you admit it, why do you keep lying to yourself? We're not a family, this is not a house, nobody has manners, we're all bastards, live with it."_

_She walked away towards the dark wooden door, knowing she had caused enough damage, knowing she added enough fuel to the fire. She knew she had destroyed him, killed him alive, but she couldn't bring herself to feel bad about it, after all this was how she had been living for years now, spreading her hatred and poison, passing it on, just for the sake of mere entertainment. She was a monster, she knew it, she believed it, this was what she thought was her purpose of life, consume and destroy other's._

_Just before she took that last step towards the door, she turned around watching his back. "Good night, big brother," she tossed him a vicious smile and left the room. She threw that one last piece of coal among the embers satisfying the loathe that dwelled within her._

* * *

"I don't know," I told Killua as we took the last turn, entering my lane. "Maybe Hakuna Matata," I shrugged.

He snorted. "That's your exemplary life theme?"

I shrugged. "Yeah. It sounds like an okay way to go through life, I mean it was able to escort a lion cub through the fucking hardships of it, why not live that way?"

He pursed his lips thoughtfully and kicked a small pebble as he walked. "You know what?"

"What?" I said giving him a side glance.

"You're right, it is an okay way to go through life."

One corner of my mouth lifted up on its own, he was a weird guy.

"Hakuna Matata," he whispered pensively, glancing at the sky.

The wind was heavy, mostly humid and the sky was a deep grey, it could easily be mistaken for early in the evening, rather than the late afternoon it was. The clouds were stuffed and fluffy, indicating a great deal of fine rain to pour in a minimum of an hour or so.

"This chaperone venture is going to cost you some effort big boy," I said narrowing my eyes at the dim rays of the nearly setting sun, which was hardly visible behind the thick clouds. "It's about to rain."

"Rain," he rolled his eyes. "Like I haven't heard that one before," he said in a bored voice.

I took out the keys from my pocket as we reached the enterance. "Thanks."

He nodded burrying his hands in his pockets. Somehow I noticed he always did that when he was nervous or mostly, answerless, like in praising cases. Modest guy.

"You wanna... come in?" I said scratching my forehead.

His eyes slightly gleamed, amused and teasing and he gave me a tiny smile. "Maybe some other time," he reassured. _You're just never going to learn, are you Claire?_

I gave him a small nod. I was so done with formalities, like I didn't know he would have said that. "So.. I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure," saying that he strode away.

The afternoon was misty, silent and cold. I watched him as he walked away and eventually faded in the dark. Maybe it was just my imagination, or just what I expected, but either way, I thought I saw him wave.

I hugged my self once, and rubbed my palms lightly on my shoulders and inhaled the chilly air. Taking one last deep breath I opened the door and went in.

The house was empty, just the way it always was when my parents were at work. I wandered around the house randomly flipping on the lights and both the Tv sets. I had been afraid of the dark and lonliness as far as my memory could take me.

I would hear steps, scratching, whispers and then cries, I always tried to fill up the house with as much light and sound I could manage. My mother even made me go through a whole year of psychological courses to over come my various forms of phobias which just ended up with me being even more concious about them than before, mostly her trying to help out, only made things worse.

I decided to spend the alone time doing something useful instead of sitting around, like homework and things I so rarely did, such as making my bed and tidying up my room.

I looked at the messy old, yellow paged book lying on the shelf, it somehow managed to make the whole room look unneat. I should have put it away a long time ago, but I had no idea why I decided to keep it, and sadly I never had got the courage to go past the first six pages, the first two ones were all I had actually read, where there were some hand written empowering lines, which I absolutely loved, I could always relate them to what I felt. But the words jammed my brain, they made me remember. It's ancient red cover was torn and scratched, I had to admit, I hadn't kept it in the best condition, but I remembered far far back someone had told me it was all I needed. "_Everything is in the book Claire, it's all you need." _I took a few steps forward. What was in the book? And what was all that I needed?

I picked it up. Seven years, seven years it had last been since I had read the book's own script. I was scared, I had to admit it, I was scared, I had no idea why. I slowly flipped randomly through the pages and with each turn my heart fluttered a bit faster.

I heard the door unlock. I quickly put the book back and shutting the door of my room, I hurried downstairs.

I stood at the door greeting both of my parents as they entered.

"Hey honey," my dad said pecking me on the cheek.

"Hi dad," I said walking to my mom for the other cheek kissing session.

My mom handed me the pizza boxes and I placed them on the table. Dinner sounded like a good idea.

They both plopped down exhausted on the couch as I got us three soda cans from the fridge. Everyone grabbed a slice of pizza cutting off the ribbon for starting the dinner convos.

"So, how was school?" my mom asked grabbing the tv remote.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" I asked taking a bite.

"Aw, come on school's not that bad, if you only knew how much there was to it," my mom said flipping absent-mindly through the channels.

I sighed. "The only reason I go to school is because the city library seems to have a very scarce quality and quantity of books mom, otherwise I'd get home-schooled, or maybe I'd be a nun," I said shrugging.

She pretended to shiver. "It's scary you know, how much you and your dad talk alike."

My dad and I both rolled our eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know, we both talk the same and even look the same and bla bla.."

"Seriously, even back at the college times, while we enjoyed the pleasures of having sex, your dad was busy reading off the whole library," she recalled, almost hysteric like she was living it now.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Reading gives its own contentment," said my dad looking at me for back-up.

I nodded. "I'm with ya' pops," I said taking another slice. "But hey, who knows, maybe dad was a step ahead of you all, maybe that's why we look alike."

My dad nodded. "Who knows, reading does get you book-drunk."

"I couldn't agree more," I said raising the pizza slice as a toast attemp, trying to create excitement.

My mom gasped. "Excuse me?"

"Just saying honey, you know we must take into consideration all the possibilities."

"I'm the only woman you can talk about sleeping with," my mom's voice got serious.

Talking about sex was a common argument in our house, so my parents felt no embarassment saying that out loud infront of me. That was well explained to me when my mom gave me the grown ups lecture, "Sex is something completely natural honey, it's nothing to be ashamed of." figures.

"I didn't say any names, besides, you are the only woman I've ever slept with," my dad muttered.

My dad sucked in these kind of arguments, I kinda felt sorry for him, but if a fight it was, I was neutral, just an impartial little shadow at the corner.

My mom glared at him. "Says the book drunk."

My dad gave me a desperate glance.

I shrugged and mouthed the words. "You're on your own," preparing myself to watch what my dad's rushed struggles would give life to.

My dad cleared his throat and I crossed my fingers praying he wouldn't start reciting some love poem, which would result in him ending up sleeping on the couch for a week. "But nothing beats it like that day," he said pretending to be lost in far away memories.

My mom tried her best to keep her mouth shut, but it was beyond her control, she was way too curious. "What?" she said through clentched teeth, trying to look deadly and failing.

"The fourth of March, 1995, the first time we slept together," my dad said proudly.

I had to admit, this was above his level of romance, my dad was improving, I was proud, the kid-parent was proud.

My mom's eyes softened, but she intended to keep the Romeo-dad going on for a while longer, since he so rarely made his appearance, women, who'd understand them.

"It was 2:35am, you were drunk.." my dad explained the details.

"And you tried your best to sneak out of the window, but my mother caught you, and you broke a leg, in one of your athletic escape stunts," my mom continued.

I snorted, ammused by hearing the untold story for the first time.

"And your mother has disliked me ever since, and to think she still believed that I was the one to take your virginity away. Man, she trusted you way too much, if she only knew half of how reckless you were," my dad said lost in thought.

My mom smiled, a bright grin that reached her eyes. My dad had done it.

"I love you honey," she said softly kissing him.

He answered back willingly, muttering the "I love you too," somewhere in the kiss.

I backed away noticing how passionate the kiss was getting and what it would lead to. I hurriedly grabbed the pizza box. "Eu, gross, I'm eating!"

They didn't even seem to know I was there.

"Can you atleast wait 'til I leave!" I quickly rushed away, keeping the kids-hate-when-their-parents-make-out act going.

My parents loved each other and they loved me. I still wondered what small act of kindness I ever did by mistake as to deserve such amazing parents. Only if I knew how much it would hurt later.

* * *

I impatiently kicked my foot against the desk, staring, actually glaring, into the grey haired man's eyes. Impatient, hesitant, awaiting for his answer. His look was confused, but he tried his best to put on a look of determination.

"Anytime now, Mr. Domoto," I almost shouted.

Mr. Domoto had been our neighbour for more than five years now. His wife cheated on him two years ago, and after their separation I had not even once seen him smile, the same reason why he had trust issues. His eyebrows were always furrowed and though he managed to throw out a joke from time to time he was always grumpy. He wasn't just a neighbour, he was more like family, a friend.

The Mr. Domoto was for my own comfort rather than a formality since he had been begging me to call him by name since the last decade.

He had a girlfriend now, but his self-created suspicions and doubts poked his brain at regular intervals and due to his lack of trust and his knowledge about my limited abilities at hacking, he decided to put the poor girl to the test. But all of a sudden his conscience kicked in and the guilt was starting to show on his face, which resulted in the apparent pause for a conscience argument. I did feel sorry for him, but I knew he was well aware of what was best for him, way much more than me.

"I'm getting late for school," I informed him, as he seemed to go on ignoring me. "Aw, come on Mr. Domoto don't be an asshole, make up your mind already!"

He sighed. "What's the point of using the surname if you just have to shit coat it anyway?" he asked in his thick voice.

"That's just how respectful I happen to be," I smiled sarcastically.

"Remind me to get a carton of aspirin for next time you come around."

"Give me a break," I said slapping his shoulder. "You're a fourty year old ancient man, if I didn't come around and boost your blood pressure from time to time you'd be rotting in your grave by now," I looked out the window. "And instead of flowers, they'd put shit on it," I whispered.

"You little.. " he muttered.

"I've got ten minutes to get to school, so, that's either about the time I need to get there or bury a dead body in your backyard, so, chop chop," I said clapping my hands together.

He sighed. "Alright, do it."

"Finally." I heaved a sigh of relief and quickly placed my fingers on the keyboard, hurriedly ticking the keys. "Jeez you're girlfriend's an idiot, who leaves their bluetooth on like that?" I asked myself. "I'm in; data, inbox and... done," I said pressing the enter key.

My dad had taught me all I knew about device hacking, of course my mom was clueless otherwise she's throw a fit on how we'd get arrested or something, it wasn't like we infiltrated pentagon or anything.

I looked at Mr. Domoto, his eyes were sad, and it would have been hard to see, if I didn't know him so well. "Her whole message inbox and outbox, that is her sent and received messages even the factory restored ones are in there. So, go on. Knock yourself out, you're gonna love it," I said trying to cheer him up.

He just kept staring out the window, his gaze lost in what seemed like a time far away.

I clenched my teeth and sighed. "Listen, no one's a saint, and no matter how hard you try to make it perfect, trust me, something will turn out wrong, but you know what? It's alright, that's what makes it worth trying, and in the end it all comes down to how much you love her, 'cause if it's enough, you'll trust her." I was surprised at myself for the sudden emotional lecture, it was so not my thing, but I thought I did quite well this time.

He looked up at me confused, even more than I was.

I figured the best thing I could do was give him some alone time, I quickly got up and grabbed my school bag from where I had left it on the floor, I walked past him, wishing I could at least hug him, or in some way make him realize I was there for him. I turned the knob and stepped out.

"Hey, not a word about this to my mom," I quickly said.

He gave a sharp nod, trying to act all military.

I rolled my eyes and hurried out, praying I'd make it in time before the first bell.

School was a mess as always, I fell two times while waking to class, one most royally my own, and the other a sacred push from my most lethal enemy. I spilled soda on my shirt and spent the whole break trying to wash it off and if that wasn't enough, I was about to face my one nemesis, the battle that I had been fighting since the fifth grade; my shield: the protractor, my sword: the compass, and my battle field, my own mind.

Geometry. I could deal with english projects, history assignments, mathematical equations, catching cattle with lassos, maybe even tame wild dogs, and even face gym, but geometry was something I sucked at so very much, to be honest, I sucked at it so much, I had to take extra classes for it. It was absurd how I could deal with algebra and calculus just fine but was unable to grasp the concept of this one subject. We just didn't click.

So, as I sat with sweaty hands, under the careful eye of my geometry professor, actually imagining what were the chances of a meteor crashing right into the school, I looked at the tense, black spiky haired boy who sat right beside me.

His eyebrows were furrowed and he clutched the pencil with such force, it was seconds away from literally breaking. I had to admit, he looked way more miserable than I felt. I tried my best to keep my big mouth shut, but I was a nerd, it was beyond me.

"Uh, you have to calculate the angle of depression first," I whispered, cursing myself at the same time.

He immediately turned to me, a bit shocked, like he had just been transported from some other universe. He sighed and scratched his head. "I have no idea what that is."

Life truth, I sucked at geometry, but compared to him, I could win a nobel prize. I held back a giggle. "Look," I emphasized placing his protractor on the weird figure he had managed to make. "Go on, just take out the angle and write it down in the equation."

He began doing what I told him, and while he did so, I examined his face, trying to find any similarities between him and Killua, even the faintest, he was his cousin after all, well, according to him.

"Like this?" he said brightly, like he had actually managed to accomplish something.

I looked down at his page and read it carefully. "Uh.. no."

There was a moment of silence between us, when we kept staring at each other, after a few seconds we both burst out laughing, I had no idea why.

The professor shot us both a deadly glance and we shut up immediately.

"Gon," he whispered as he lightly held out his hand.

"I'm—" I began, before he interrupted me.

"Claire, I know, Killua mentioned you," he said.

"He did?" I said way louder than I intended. I cleared my throat. "I mean—he did?" I said shrugging.

"Yeah, you were his history assignment partner," he said grinning.

Like I could imagine that jerk mentioning me in an actual conversation; why the hell was I disappointed? I hated the weird annoying feeling in my chest. It was like I wanted him to talk about me.

"Uh, yeah, I was," I said, trying to keep the most casual tone I had.

That was to my disappointment, all I got. The rest of the day was bound to be hell. It was the first day of my chemistry labs, translation: another stupid, annoyingly horrifying year, which was to be spent as Nora being my partner for college eternity. The idea of taking lava down my throat kind of sounded better. Every year, praying for a miracle to happen didn't help, and the chances of this one being any better weren't many.

I entered the lab with Nora chattering about something idiotic, by my side. I stood near the door and decided to take a deep breath before commencing hell, while she helped herself to a seat.

"Rambo ready to enter the battle field, eh?" Killua whispered in my ear.

I turned to him, a bit startled. "And just when I thought things couldn't get worse," I muttered.

His hair was messier than even, and he wore a black collared shirt over a white one, with neat blue jeans, and as much as I would have hated to say it, it would have been unfair to say he didn't look good, because beside the looks, this guy also had a presence about him, something all his own, he was, something else completely.

He rolled his eyes. "Now that's no way to talk to your partner," he said in a fakely hurt voice.

"What?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "No way, I don't think you got the idea, but I intended for that first time to be the last."

He smirked, an evil smirk. "I could always make you."

I clenched my teeth. "I don't think you've noticed, but the professor is a male, _man;_ now unless you happen to be gay, I think I feel pretty safe that you can't."

He looked behind me, I assumed at the teacher. "So, you're sure you don't wanna?" his voice still had the same level of confidence.

"Never been more sure in my life," I smiled as widely as I could.

"Reconsider?"

I glared at him. "Do me favour and take part in some dumb contest, win it, and get a free cruise to hell or something."

He smirked and nodded, a triumphant smirk, like he had already won.

I turned around only to understand why his smirk was fixed at his place, I had been betrayed. All the students were in pairs of two at their desks, even Nora, there was only one table with two empty seats. He kept me busy talking while everybody else partnered up. Of all the...

I faced him again. His lips were pursed, he was trying to hold back a smirk. "Hilarious, you want a round of applause for that?"

He shrugged. "Couldn't hurt."

I walked towards the seat only to see he didn't move an inch. "What? You want me to send you a royal carriage or something?"

He leaned against the door and crossed his arms around his chest. "No, but since you rejected my offer earlier, I think you at least owe me one of your own."

My mouth fell open. "You want me to ask you to be my partner," I said astonished.

"Yeah, ask, beg, implore, propose, whatever," he winked.

I narrowed my eyes. "Yeah, right."

He shrugged. "You have a minute before class starts so, I suggest you hurry up," he said glancing at his wrist watch.

"Is there a problem?" the professor asked just before I was reflecting a good comeback.

"No," I murmured.

Killua's expression was smooth and anticipating.

I clentched my teeth. "Will you... be my partner?" I sighed.

He smirked. "Let's try that again, with a please this time," pronouncing the L harder, which made it so fucking annoying.

I gasped. "You..." I said taking a deep breath. "Will you.. please.. be my partner?"

He smiled, a genuine smile, one I'd never expect out of him. "If you insist," and saying that he walked to one of the empty seats.

I sat down beside him, still a bit over-whelmed by his smile. I felt like I wanted to say please to him all over again just to see that smile once more. Maybe it was something about how it reached his eyes and brightened the sapphire blue by a shade or two. What? I was losing it.

He took out the apparatus and all of the time I tried to concentrate on working, but all I could care about was this boy sitting next to me. He didn't talk, he seemed to be focused on what he was doing, and what he was supposed to do, and that was the very thing I failed at doing right now.

"Done day-dreaming?" he said breaking my train of thought.

"Uh, what?"

"Must be about me, that would explain the drool," he said placing one of the beakers on the table.

My fingers immediately flew to my mouth. The jerk was bluffing, I wasn't drooling. "Shut up," I said extending my hand out for one of the beakers, without realizing he was reaching out for it too, accidentally our hands touched and I pulled mine back immediately.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Impressive, but let's do soap-opera some other time," he said taunting. "Let's go back to the slobberer and the intellect for now."

"I would help, if you would stop playing the maverick scientist for a moment, and let me."

"Fine, military Rambo chemist, it's all yours," he said leaning against the chair.

I rolled my eyes at him and glanced at the board, I had no idea what experiment we were supposed to do, I quickly read the instructions and tried to concentrate while the jerk just kept watching. Ten minutes, or maybe it was five, the while we both kept quite.

"Maverick," he whispered recalling the word I had used earlier.

"What?" I said multi tasking.

"Maverick, I think I'm more of a bad boy."

I snorted. "Oh, excuse you, bad one but, I think you gotta have some qualities for that tag."

"State any I don't have," he said challenging.

"Well you are a jerk, and a total asshole, not to mention a complete annoying idiot," I said smiling. "Yeah, you know what, you are a bad boy, you're a fucking jackass actually."

He rolled his eyes. "I'd mention a quality of my own, but you wouldn't believe it."

"Try me."

"I distract you."

"What? That's not a quality, and I am not distracted by you."

"It sounds very funny, you saying that, while that's exactly what you're doing," he smirked.

I caught sight of my hands as I accidentally poured the solution down on the table. "Oh.. fucking.." I grabbed the tissue paper roll from the table and started cleaning. "I'm not distracted by you," I said again. "It's not you in particular or anything, it could be with anybody, I mean that happens all the time."

"Oh, so you have a table staining record or something?" he joked.

I sighed. "You know what," I said surrendering. "Go on, do your thing."

He smirked, again as I backed into my seat.

"Tell you what, I do the solutions, you deal with the cutting, okay?" he said like he was trying to initiate a truce with an enemy.

I shurgged and took the knife. Today sucked, I was constantly making a fool of myself. "You must be swooning with the idea that you were right." I muttered.

A corner of his mouth lifted up. "If I swooned every time I was right, I would be in a coma three hundred and sixty four days."

I rolled my eyes. "I wish you were in coma now," in the middle of that, I again managed to prove myself an idiot as I sliced my finger with the blade, I gasped. A fine line of blood was oozing out of my finger. "Oh no.." I said barely louder than a whisper as I felt the frame of my vision get blurry. Not blood. I couldn't hear anything, maybe just confused whispers, but somewhere in the middle of that, I think I fell.

Haemophobic. The least bit sight of blood freaked me out. I couldn't feel life in my legs anymore. It was like every time I saw blood, my brain shut down on its own. Call it what you will, reality, embarassment, it was both to me.

I could tell exactly where I was, even if my eyes were shut, it was the smell, it was the infirmary and I could hear his voice. He was talking to the nurse. Killua's being here was the very reason I wasn't opening my eyes. I heard the door open and then shut and there was a silence. Maybe he left.

"I know you're conscious," he said. Maybe not.

"What if I'm not," I mumbled.

"I guess that'd make sense, since you don't seem to know there's a stain on your shirt."

I immediately opened my eyes and sat up. "Oh my God, no," I gasped, but relaxed when I discovered that the idiot was bluffing again. "Asshole."

"You're such a girl," he said rolling his eyes.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"So, afraid of blood are we?"

I covered my face with my hands. "Shut up."

"Rambo's weak point," he snorted.

"Shut up!" I muttered.

"I like it," he concluded.

"What?" I said peeking through my fingers.

"Rambo-ish, short-tempered, fierce, but in the end turns out to be afraid of blood, I like it, you're exactly my type," he said smirking.

My eyes felt like they would pop out from their sockets. If I could blush I'd be a million shades of red right now. Why was this idiot messing with my head. "You, what?"

But instead of answering my question, he just walked to the door, threw me his casual wave, with an additional wink and disappeared, leaving me half confused, half startled. Who the hell was this guy.

_I feel my soul's essence as I recollect its lost pieces_

_blood rushes through my veins as the agony ceases._


	5. Flare

Chapter: 5

* * *

**"Flare."**

* * *

_Wonder. Wonder and caution, was what she found herself feeling as she walked steadily down the hallway. She could sense a hole in her gut, there was something sinister about the silence, and as hard as she tried she couldn't shake of the feeling that something was awfully wrong._

_The ten year old girl tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear and took a deep breath. The expression on her face was peculiar as she was debating within whether she should or shouldn't walk away. She shifted her weight from one foot to another, and so very gently, she turned the knob and pushed the huge door open. The room before her was one she had so rarely the honour of walking into, and its invitation was usually an indicator of something ominous._

_Dark, was the only word she could describe it with. Ofcourse, there was no doubt it was beautiful, but so is the devil in disguise. The few rays of sunlight that were allowed to penetrate through the thick curtains were forked, and weakly lit the room. The scent was appealing, and so was the woman that sat comfortably on the club chair, smiling widely, her lips, a bloody red. _

_"What do you want?", the little girl spat. The tension she felt could be sensed form a mile away._

_The blond woman fluttered her lashes. "Now, now Claire, that's not very polite."_

_The brunette sighed, obviously irritated.. "Why did you call me here?"_

_The woman's eyes widened as if out of shock. "Should there really be a reason for a mother to see her daughter?"_

_The girl smirked mercilessly, this was a game she had played many times before. "Let's drop the shit where we pretend you're my mother and we're a family and get to point."_

_"There is nothing your mother would have done for you, that I haven't.", the woman defended her case dully, boredom was visible on her face. She pointed to a chair, inviting the girl to sit._

_The girl obeyed, cautiously, the words of defense already at the tip of her tongue. "Yes. You're right Ingird. My mother, too, would have never let me see my own father, she too, would have kept me prisoner here against my will for ten years, but I can't help but feel that she never would have spent her time plotting my death."_

_The woman rolled her eyes. "I have so many times told you, that your father is sick, I keep you in this mansion for your own safety."_

_"My father is sick, for the past fifteen years? Come up with a better excuse, I bet he's long gone and you're just putting up this act until the right time for your schemes shows up, and my safety, as far as it concerns you, is as farther from you as possible.", the girl said through gritted teeth._

_The petite lady sighed, and gesturing with one hand brought the girl's attention to a goblet in front of her, filled with water. "Have a drink, you're obviously being temperamental."_

_The girl leaned back against the chair, her should felt heavy, as she wondered how she was able to live all of this for a whole decade._

_"It's not poison.", the woman informed._

_"Oh, I know. You can't kill me, not yet atleast.", she smiled bitterly. "I know you would have already if you could, not just me, all three of us I guess."_

_The woman's gaze turned into a glare as her true face was slowly exposed. "You talk too much for someone who isn't even older than ten."_

_"The truth stings doesn't it? Let me tell you one thing Ingrid, you might have Luca fooled and Katie's too young to know it yet, but I see you for the snake you are, and as far as my guess goes, our lives are tied to something important, something greater than your loathe for us.", the girl looked around. "Maybe all of this.", she said indicating the huge estate. "Maybe even more.", she shrugged._

_The woman's jaw twitched. "You have a wild imagination there."_

_The girl lifted the goblet and sipped a draught. "I'll ask one last time, what do you want?"_

_The woman gazed at a distance. "You obviously don't need me in your life anymore."_

_The girl scoffed. "Skip me the drama and get to the point."_

_"Very well then, I'm setting you free, you can go, you can leave whenever you want, it's your choice.", the woman shrugged._

_The girl's eyes widened. "You're bluffing.", she gasped._

_"I'm not, I mean what I'm saying."_

_The girl swallowed hard. "And what's the price."_

_The woman chuckled. "Silly girl, there's no price, but, there is one thing you need to do."_

_"What?", the girl whispered._

_The woman remained silent, as to search for the rigth words. "Just a signature, a written proof that you decided to leave, that you are no longer a permanent resident of your father's estate."_

_The girl narrowed her eyes. "That's all?"_

_"Yes.", the woman opened her drawer and produced a neat looking file. She flipped through the document and exposed a page which stated exactly what she had said. "That's all I need."_

_"You're playing games."_

_"I most certainly am not, otherwise wouldn't you have known?"_

_The girl held her breath, the offer was too appealing, she didn't want to call the shots, she wanted to take what was being given, she wanted to be selfish. "Is this the same thing you told Luca when you called him here earlier?"_

_The woman nodded._

_"What about Katie?", the girl inquired._

_"She's too young, besides, I doubt you would want to take her with you."_

_"I'm sure Luca would want to, he loves her."_

_"No, I did ask him, he refused."_

_The girl bit her lip. She wanted to say she didn't believe her, she knew her siblings too well, but she was tired, she just wanted to live the rest of her life for herself, that was all she wanted, freedom. She took the pen on the desk and without giving it another thought scrawled quickly on the document._

_The woman's face had a serene look, and the girl could even see that she had somehow gotten herself in a trap, but she didn't care, because she knew that at the moment, she did what she thought was best for her, she was exhausted now, she didn't want to fight anymore._

_So, as she stood and headed for the door her thoughts and conscience a mere blur, the woman smirked peripheral to girl's vision, it was an evil smile, one that represented pure darkness, and said, "You made the right choice Claire."_

_The girl sighed, because deep inside she knew she didn't. (Interval)_

* * *

_"You're exactly my type."_ The words echoed in my brain for the millionth time as I stared blankly at the ceiling of my room. What did it mean? And most importantly why did it matter? Why did I like it whenever images of his figure popped into my brain? Why did I smile involuntarily whenever his words played in my mind? Why did I google "what does it mean when a boy says you're my type"? Why did I feel a flare of hope when he was around? Why did I absent mindedly think of him while pretending to work? Why did I start to care how I looked and worry about my outfit? Why did the thought of him touching me sound appealing? Why did I walk faster in the halls, entertaining the thought of pretending to casually bump into him? Why did I hold my breath when he smiled? Why couldn't I help staring at his lips while he talked? And lastly why the hell couldn't I shake off the restlessness of going back to school since the weekend had started?

I shifted uncomfortably on the bed. The answer was one for all, and it was one that I found hard to admit, it had me chewing on the inside of my cheek. The answer was one and it was simple, I was into Killua Hayashi and that meant trouble.

**Killua's P.O.V :-**

I leaned my head against the headboard of the bed as I heard the loud exhales of the bare girl lying beside me. Exhaustion, disgust and mostly self-hate. These were the feelings that coursed through my veins and were bundled up in my chest. I blinked and all at once my aimless life played in front of me, all that I had lost, all that I had worked for, and all that I had left.

I took the packet of cigarettes from the side table and holding one between my lips, pressed the lighter's button, the flame appeared before my eyes, reminding me of the fire within me. I took a deep breath and let out a puff of smoke.

The girl beside me crawled into my lap, her auburn hair covering one side of her eye, as she quickly tucked it behind her ear. "Well aren't you a giver.", she said breathlessly as she ran a hand down my bare torso. Most people would referred to her as beautiful but as I stared at her face, it took everything I had not to hit her as hard as I could.

I managed to smirk. "Now that you've had your side of the trade, I expect you to give me mine very soon."

She fluttered her eye-lashes. "My, my.", she sighed. "Let go of work for a while babe, enjoy what life gives you.", she winked.

I clenched my teeth and glared at her, keeping the smirk in place. "Listen to me, very carefully Naomi, because I, don't like to repeat myself.", I said placing my hand on the head board. There was a small click and I showed her the little black metal flower in my palm, which I had just removed. "When I seal a deal, I readily do my part, whether I like it or not, but when others don't do theirs, and they try to play with me, I see to it that they are properly punished.", I closed my palm and after a second opened it again, showing her the black dust that remained of the flower. "I crush them."

Her lower lip slightly trembled as she got off my lap. "Don't worry, you'll have the keys in no time.", she assured me.

I smiled. "Now that's the kind of people I like to do business with. Make sure you stick to your word.", I said as I stood and pulled my underwear on. The fury and rage within me were killing me. Many things must be done, to get the job done. The words sounded familiar as they echoed in my brain.

I closed my eyes and the face of a brown-eyed brunette that had constantly been the center of my attention for the past two weeks flashed before me, and just like that, I felt my anger evaporate.

The way her lips twitched slightly when she talked, how she blinked furiously when she was embarrassed. How she twiddled her thumbs when she was confused. How behind that tough shell of hers, an empty and broken girl could be seen. How her eyes seemed to be telling so many sorry-tales but she kept her face composed. How the girl was more fragile than a petal but she acted hard-core. How the chocolate pools of her eyes were framed with thick and long lashes. How her lips lacked colour, just waiting to be kissed. How she never blushed, but her eyes betrayed her emotions. How it was clear that the girl had no idea just how gorgeous she was. How no matter what I did, I couldn't help but be drawn to her. She was my flare of hope.

**Claire's P.O.V :-**

There she was. The little girl with the coal black locks, smiling, her eyes gleaming. Her hand held out for me. She blinked a few times and then her expression was confused, the cheerfulness on her face slowly faded, until it changed into terror, fear, dread. I stared down at my hand, and there it was. The black dagger with its silver-edged blade, slowly its colour spread, until my whole form was dark, just a shadow. I looked up at the little child. I wanted to shout, wanted to warn her, "Run Katie! Get away!", but no words came out of my mouth. She kept standing there, trusting me, having faith in her sister, until it happened. In the blink of an eye, the dagger pierced through her heart, hot blood stained my hands. The girl didn't shriek, she didn't even cry, she just whimpered once and the one word that escaped her lips was, "Why?"

I screamed. At the top of my lungs I screamed. Warm tears were wetting my cheeks but I screamed. As I awoke from the nightmare all I could do was scream. How could life at once, turn all my dreams and hopes into nothing but regret and pity. The door of my room flew open, both my parents hurried to me, their expressions concerned and worried. I burried my face in my hands.

Maybe they were consoling me, speaking words of comfort. But I couldn't hear them, running in my mind were the images of the black-haired girl. My breath was stuck in my throat and my gut telling me once again that darkness was soon to come. I didn't know how long I stayed there, frozen, but it seemed like an eternity until my alarm clock beeped, scaring me to death.

I could feel my eyelids crashing heavily with each other. Each sound around me was louder and echoed a million times. The events revolved around me in a blur, maybe I splashed water on my face, maybe I just assured my parents I was going to make it on my own through the day, maybe I tripped somewhere, and before I could know how, I was walking in the school hallway. It took everything in me to walk straight, and I felt like I was about to collapse in any moment.

Fear, fatigue, I felt cold sweat on my forehead. There would be a moment my breath would stop and after a few seconds, it would come back in a rush. I desperately struggled to keep my eyes open as I walked staggering to my locker. My eyes would eventually tear up and the bags under them made it hard to concentrate on each pace. The pile of books in my arms suddenly felt like it weighed five times more and my brain was unsuccessfully battling as I was on the verge of unconsciousness. Every figure and person around me looked a bit blurred and faded and each movement drummed in my ears.

As I finally made it to the metallic little door, I saw a figure leaned casually against it. I blinked a few times to make out the face and sighed. Screamed, internally. He should not be here.

Killua raised his eyebrows as he saw me approach. "I see we're looking sturdy this morning."

His voice burned like venom in my ears, like hot metal sticking to my skin. I closed my eyes. Don't do something you'll regret Claire, so I just kept quiet, my temper was so not in check.

"What? Did you sleep with your dog?", he said making a disgusted face.

I clenched my teeth and dropped the books to his feet.

His expression turned confused as he watched repeatedly between my face and the dropped items.

"Just shut the hell up!", I shouted. "Just shut that bloody hole, I can't always put up with this shit of yours, I'm human for heaven sake! I'm not perfect like you, we're not all fucking idiots who win people's hearts just with a wink! I'm just... I'm tired, okay? I just.. can't", my voice broke. "Get out of that royal bubble of yours for once, just—just stop, okay?"

He watched me with a serious expression, which made me realize the surroundings were silent, a bit too silent.

I looked to my sides, everyone in the hall was completely frozen, staring with shocked faces at us. Hell, fuck. I let my voice slip a bit too loud. My eyes humidified on their own, and something told me it wasn't because of the lack of sleep. People were staring at me. I staggered a few paces back and took deep breaths looking at Killua. I looked once at the books scattered on the floor, deciding it was better to leave them there. I spun around and fleeted out, falling twice on the wet grass. I wiped the tears with the sleeves of my shirt and sat down on the pavement, my eyes still begging me to shut them.

For seventeen years of my insignificant life, I had never caused a scene, never raised my voice that loud, and never and I mean never been actually noticed, even though notoriously, by such a large number of people. I could feel the guilt flood furiously in my heart. I was, for lack of a better word, a despicable human being.

People say your habits become permanent once you turn forty, for me, that had an earlier impact by just a few decades. I was the kind of person who put ketchup on her macaroni and cheese once and didn't like it but still followed the same pattern twice just to prove a meaningless point to her brain. I was the one who always made the same mistake multiple times. I was, in other words, an utter and absolute idiot.

My past was blemished, big time. My hands weren't clean, and when the consequences were hard to take, I ran. That's what I did, I ran away. People would think I might be some kind of nonpareil saint, worrying over something so small, but I just couldn't afford it, I just couldn't render myself any more miserable by letting these small flaws stain the folio of my life some more. It wasn't an option, a choice, or part of my once in a year agenda, it was an exigency, there was no turning around or screwing up some more.

"You're gonna bite it off.", I heard a soothing masculine voice call.

I turned around to see Killua standing at my side looking cautiously at the gray stained sky.

I sighed. I couldn't explain the appease his voice sent in my heart. "What?"

"Your lip, you're gonna bite it off."

I laughed once wiping the tears from my cheeks as I realized how hard I had sunk my teeth in my lower lip.

He sat down next to me. "Here.", he said handing me a square little wrap.

I blinked a few times. "What's this?"

"Chocolate."

I looked at him in disbelief, in that moment I felt a huge lump in my throat, I wanted to throw my arms around him and tell him how thankful I was, but instead I masked my emotion by saying, "Pinch my ass, you are sharing chocolate?"

"It's good for your mood.", he said rolling his eyes.

I shifted it in my hands. "Thanks.", I sighed. "And I seriously can't believe I'm about to say this but I'm sorry, I know I acted like a total asshole."

"And?", he asked pleased.

"A moron.", I sighed.

"And...?"

I glared at him. "Trust me, this ends here."

He laughed. "Just cherishing the moment. Well, atleast we got something out of this."

"What?"

"We know you give out a great amount of shit when your mad or sleep deprived, so let's not push those buttons again."

I loured at him and stood up. "Seriously, you are the fucking reason God made the middle finger.", I said yawning.

He rolled his eyes. "So, wins people's hearts with a wink, eh?"

"What? No, I didn't mean that... I was.. you.. shut up.", I burried my face in my hands.

He chuckled, amused. "It's amazing what good looks can do.", he said raising his eyebrows.

I yawned again. "You're a bitch Killua.", I said rubbing my eyes. "I mean not like a bitch bitch, because that's.. I mean like a dog, but that doesn't sound insulting 'cause it looks like I'm calling you pal, like what up dog, pal, yo whatever, sort of like a male bitch... if that's okay with you.", I said sitting back down, my legs felt numb.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Yeah, it's okay with me."

I stretched my arms and blinked a few times. My hands started working on their own and removed his hands from his lap. The sleep deprivation was getting to my head. "Do you mind?", I said placing my head on his lap and yawning.

"I..I..", he stuttered. "No.", he cleared his throat. "Ofcourse not."

I hummed. "Thanks.", I said closing my eyes. I could smell his scent, vanilla and a mixture of different manly odours, overall, very appealing.

Killua might be the most awkward and goading person I knew. At that moment, though I was barely concious, I felt a small flare of heat in my chest, a feeling I was not familiar with, but it made me happy. Maybe I had read about it in books, was it fondness? Or gratefulness, or maybe both, or something even more. Also there next to him, I felt safe, safe from my nightmares, safe from the guilt, safe from the dark. The two sides of my brain were caught up in a wrangle, one liked him and the other wanted to beat the shit out of him. I just shrugged that off, and let myself slide into unconsciousness.

"Oh, my God.", I gasped as Killua and I walked towards the hallway. "I missed a class."

"So, what?", he said casually as he walked with his arms crossed behind his neck.

"You don't get it, I missed a class! I... what time is it?", I asked greedily.

"Eleven sharp."

"Oh, no, I missed two classes.", I barely whispered.

"Actually, you missed three.", he informed me.

My mouth fell open. "But.. you... how could you do this to me?"

He glared at me. "Oh, so I held your head in my lap, on the cold pavement, while you slept for three hours and this is what I get? Yeah, how could I possibly do that to you.", he groaned.

We both remained silent and gazed at each other. This was one of those "awkward" moments. He blushed, and since I couldn't, I just looked away.

"I've gor P.E.", I mumbled.

"Me too.", he shrugged.

It was ten minutes later that I was seated on the bench in my gym clothes, we had tennis today. My nails dug deep in my palm. For all the times I fell and embarassed myself in gym, I should've gotten used to it by now, but no.

I saw a tall figure, standing next to me. Killua, hands in his pockets wearing a grey shirt that was only a shade darker than his hair. "You didn't change.", I informed him.

"Oh, no. Really?", he asked, his voice lacking emotion.

I glared at him.

His dull eyes met mine. "I don't feel like it.", he explained. "The teacher gave me off.", he shrugged.

I looked back at the gym instructor. Aha, of course, opposite sex to Killua meant Killua doing whatever the hell he liked. I felt like I was going to explode. "I don't get it! Fucking.. how come this is called the justice system?", I whisper shouted.

Killua's eyes brightened and he smirked. He walked closer to me and gently patted my head, like one would do with a mentally retarded child. "You're so naive."

"What?", I glared at him.

He got down on his knees and his hands went to my shoes.

I looked down and saw that the laces had been tied together. Naomi. The name flashed in my head at once.

He slowly untied them and explained, "See? Half of the time, you don't even notice what's going around you.", he smirked. "You're naive.", he said triumphant.

I bit my tongue, resisting the urge to stick it out at him. "So, if you're skipping P.E, why the hell are you here?"

He bit his lip. "I heard, you have certain skill in sports."

My eyes widened. "No, no, you—no, I—", I rubbed my temples with my fingers. "You can't."

He just smirked in response.

So, as I walked to the tennis court, racket in hand, trembling, all I could think of was, curse you Killua Hayashi.

_As a flare of heat manages to light up my heart _

_ like a fresh breeze from the window as I forget my past._


	6. Conundrum

Chapter: 6

* * *

**"Conundrum."**

* * *

_Childhood. The time of our lives that seems to have faded away just when we held to it the tightest. The lifetime that we spent with our eyes closed. The time when we hung our sleeves lose, pretending to have no arms, the time we were scared of swallowing seeds because we thought a tree would grow in our stomach, the time when we fell asleep in front of the tv, and when we woke up, someone had already carried us to bed. Shut the fridge door real slow, just to see when the lights went off. The time when we used to think the moon followed our car, and just like that, on the snap of two fingers, you are brought in a world that holds misery and despair; so with bruises of distress and wounds of dolour you come face to face with a beast that can not be tamed: reality._

**12 years ago:-**

_The slight sound of rustling echoed through the empty hallway as the little five year old girl gently flipped the smooth pages of the thick book. Her deep brown eyes, widened with wonder as she came across a word that was unknown to her. She carefully counted each syllable on her tiny fingers and smiled when she felt satisfied. She put the book down on her lap and turned to the woman that sat in front of her._

_"Yui-san," mumbled the tiny girl. "What is a father?"_

_The woman smiled and gently removed a few strands of the girl's chocolate shaded hair from her face. "It's a person who deeply cares for you."_

_The girl blinked once and her gaze bored into the woman's eyes. "You're a father?" the small child inquired._

_The maid giggled. "No, Claire-kun, ladies can't be fathers," she said smiling._

_The girl's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "A father is a boy, like Luca?"_

_"Yes," the woman nodded. "But a bit bigger."_

_"Do I have a father?" she girl asked grinning._

_The woman nodded._

_"I want to see him. I want to tell him I care for him too," the girl's eyes gleamed._

_The smile of the maid's face slowly faded. "You can't, you see, your father is sick."_

_The small child grimaced. "Did he see a doctor? Tell him it's okay, he shouldn't be afraid, the needles only prick a bit."_

_The black haired woman nodded. "I'm sure he did," the woman picked up the book from the small girl's lap. "Did you finish your reading Claire-kun?" she asked, as she quickly tried to change the subject._

_"Yes," the girl said bitting her lower lip. "Yui-san, why can't I go to the library near the dining room?"_

_The woman sighed. "I told you, Claire-kun, ma'am Ingrid has stiricly forbidden it."_

_The girl pouted and crossed her arms infront of her chest. "She's not nice, she shouted at me yesterday."_

_The lady gently patted her head. "We mustn't say such things. Now let us comeback to your lesson," the woman pushed._

_"You know, I heard that baby cry again yesterday, you lied to me. I saw her, there is a baby in the house. She can walk," the girl mumbled._

_"What is it going to take for you to resume your work?" the woman asked astonished. The immense love she felt for the little girl infront of her radiated clearly in her eyes._

_The little girl grabbed her own feet and wish a small push, threw her self back, lying on the floor. "Tell me, what's her name," she pronounced each word separately._

_She sighed, now concivnced that the girl would not give-up so easily. "Her name, is Katherine."_

_"Katherine?" she asked astonished. "But that was supposed to be the name of Luca's cat! We decided so! "_

_"It's alright. There can be two," said the woman, placing her hand on her shoulder._

_"No, Yui-san! What if we call Luca's cat and the baby comes running?"_

_"Well that is a big problem," said the woman amused._

_"Yes, I know! But don't worry; I have found a solamution!"_

_The woman giggled. "Solution, Claire-kun, and yes, that would be?"_

_"Solution," she said correcting herself. "The solution is, we will call the baby Katie. In this way, no one will get confused," the girl said smugly as though she had shown great wisdom._

_The woman chuckled and pecked the little girl on the cheek. "Alright, now, can we start out work again?"_

_The little girl grinned. "Just one more question."_

_The woman exhaled. "Yes."_

_"Will you be my mother?" the girl asked hopefully._

_The maid beamed and caressed the girl's cheek guiding her to recommence her reading. The woman's heart was swollen with guilt and pity for the little girl, as she foresaw what was in store for her. She knew that the darkness outlining the child's life would soon deprive her heart of love and consume the light within her._

* * *

It was a bit amusing how the feeble sunlight streamed through the spaces in the weirdly entangled branches. It almost seemed surreal, since these days the sun was a rare guest; there were a few ominous clouds in the sky, but the fireball had managed at last to make itself visible. The pale blue blanket that was a mixture of grey fluff and the weak yellow shine, had a peculiar look; as though it couldn't decide whether it wanted it to rain or not.

I fastened the strap of my bag on my shoulder. This friday didn't have the same feel as every other. Maybe it was because this school, which I attended previously more as a death sentence than an educational base, wasn't so to me anymore. Maybe it was because the weekend which was almost as good as a week's supply of new books, didn't seem as tempting as it did to me before. And maybe, just maybe, this was all because of a silver-haired, extremely annoying boy, whom I might have met a few weeks ago in a super-market, and with whom I might, just might have had a clash based on the posession of a box of treats.

I laughed, mentally. Whenever I revisited that argument in my brain, it gave me the urge to jump in a two-kilometer deep well. It was strange, I thought; merely because this new agressive personality I found I was setteling into, was not me. I was usually the peace-maker of the wild west, Switzerland, the humble farmer that grew small, nice crops of rice in harmony with the beautiful southern land of Japan. What?

A familiar car appeared in the school parking lot, just as I walked out of the ground and stopped right infront of me.

"Mr. Domoto?" I asked as the tinted windows lowered, revealing a grumpy-faced man.

"No, Saint Lucas," he murmured opening the door for me.

The name sent a weird jolt in my heart, though I smiled convincingly. "What—what are you doing here?"

"Get in, I'll tell you."

I strapped my seat-belt, just when we were on the drive-way. "Did something happen with.. Asami?" I asked cautiously, reffering to his current girl-friend.

"Uh— what? No, no, it's not that."

"Did you—" read the texts? I mentally completed the sentence.

"No."

"Can I—" ask why?

"It was wrong," he answered simply.

I nodded to the windshield.

"More over," he added. "You were right."

I noticed how he struggled with the last words and a smile crept on my face. He was, admitting I was right? The feeling was good. "Aren't I always?" I asked smugly. "But just so I know, what.. exactly am I right about this time?"

He let out a small groan. Oh, I was enjoying this. "The love and trust thing," he spoke the words with unnecessary speed. The next sentence was merely a whisper. "I love her enough to trust her."

I blinked. The words were so unexpected coming from him, I couldn't find anything to say. Even "oh." didn't sound right. There was a minutes silence. "So, where's my mom? She was supposed to pick me up."

He grunted. "Yeah, about that," he spoke the words slow, unnecessarily slow. Something was fishy. "Took her to the hospital earlier."

"Wha—?"

"Fainted," he answered my incomplete question.

"Why—?"

"Don't worry," he said calmy. "Nothing serious."

"Right," I breathed. "Then?"

"They discharged her early, she asked me to pick-up the reports since Hachiro's in York New."

"Oh, did you check them?"

"Yes," he admitted a bit guiltily. He cleared his throat then. "Listen kid," he said in the voice which was supposed to keep me on my guard. "I've known you since you were eleven. You grew up right infront of my eyes and you're no less than a daughter to me."

I pursed my lips. I was touched, but I couldn't help but feel he was forging me for a storm ahead.

"I know you and even when you try to hide what you feel, I can see it. Hachiro and Hana have always loved you more than you could see, they brought you up like their own, of course you are no less. Now, I want you to be a bit open minded about this," he added. "Read it," he said pointing to a paper file, which was surely my mom's reports.

Something was wrong. I carefully opened it and read the front. I hadn't even thought of a reaction when I straighetend so fast, I thought I broke my back bone. It took me a few seconds to process the words. My heart stopped beating.

In that one moment I saw all my childhood fantasies flash before me. How since the day I turned eleven I would always stare at the family frame, imagining how one more member would magically pop in, and how all those Christmases after writing my letter to santa I would fantasize the little baby that came out of my present box, how all those lonely holidays and vacations I would promise God to be good and listen to my parents in exchange for a baby sister, how that all became a part of my past and just like my other wishes vanished away as a part of my childhood and was locked away in my head in the set of the dreams that would never come true and just like that became a fear, a nightmare. I grew-up and the child that I thought would be the source of my act of redemption, became a horror of repeating the same mistake twice.

It was impossible, how could this happen? It had been more than ten years, what didn't happen in a decade, how could it happen now? That was the whole reason for the adoption, wasn't it? Was I... useless now?

"Stop the car," I said before I knew it. "Please stop the car," I pleaded.

He did as I had asked. "I know," he said from beside me. "I imagined how you'd feel. I'll say this again though. Your parents have loved you immensely and they will keep doing so, but it's time for you to give back. I know you'll do the right thing."

I just kept gazing out of the window absent-mindedly.

"You'll go and tell Hana the reports, alright?"

Mustering a whole lot of strenght, I gazed up and then down, moving my face like wise; which resulted in a nod, I took the paper file and tugged it in the inner pocket of my coat. I opened the door. "I need time," I admitted.

I didn't know whether he answered or not, because before I knew it I got out I walked down the footpath, aimless, just wandering, I didn't know where I was going. I was just going, that was all I knew. I watched my chilly breaths float away. I didn't know what I was feeling, all I knew was that I was confused.

After about what seemed a really long time of walking and it was late, because it was now dark, I found myself at the public park. I sat down on the wet bench. There was a fine drizzle pouring, the sun was gone, both from within me, and from the sky but the cool felt good, the rain didn't bother, it was soothing.

I had held back the tears all along the way. Somehow, my anger was connected to my lacrimal ducts, an embarassing tendency; but I fully intended of crying it all out.

"Did you just get kicked out?" a familiar male voice demanded.

I jumped up and involuntarily screamed, my hands flew to my chest.

I saw his dimly lit face, as the street lights flickered, Killua rolled his sapphire-blue eyes. "By the way you scream, you'd think it was the first time," he said in a bored voice.

"What are you doing here!" my voice was loud, really loud and a bit thick because of the tears which were on the verge.

"Must you always ask that question?"

"Are you stalking me?" I said, unsuccessfully trying to control my breathing.

"Yeah, when did you find out?" his eyes seemed dead.

I heaved a huge sigh and put my hands on my face, sitting back down. "Idiot," I muttered and I gulped, keeping down the huge lump in my throat.

I saw two of his fingers, which held a linear structure moved to his mouth. At his exhale, a fine puff of smoke was emanated.

My eyes widened. "You smoke?"

"No," he said repeating the same action.

I coughed, flapping the air away with my hands. "Do you know how dangerous that is?" I demanded, my voice hysteric.

He rolled his eyes and bent the cigarette with his fingers and threw it away.

I just kept staring at him. This boy had a screw lose.

"I'm stalking you, what's your excuse?" he asked.

I stared at the wet grass. Deciding whether or not, I felt like talking at all. I took a deep breath and forced my voice out. "It's... complicated," I concluded.

He leaned his head back and crossed his arms behind it. "Well you know what they say about complications," he said in a casual tone.

"No, I don't," I said trying hard to stop my voice from breaking.

"Complications," he repeated. "They knot your life together but take half of it away while you untie them."

I blinked a few times keeping back the tears. "What— what does that even mean?"

He shrugged, and by his expression I could tell he was holding back a smirk.

"You just made that up, didn't you?" Oh, god. Please, please don't make me cry infront of him.

"Sounded pretty fancy, though, didn't it?" he said, his voice gaining a bit of life.

"Very funny," I bit my lip, turning away.

He sighed. "So, did your cat die, and your mom didn't let you have a proper funeral; or did you give wrong directions to chipmunks on their way to Antartica?"

"No," I murmured. "I don't have a cat, and just so you know chipmunks don't have the proper adaptations to survive in Antartica."

He rolled his eyes. "There's this thing called humour, look it up."

I scowled at the grass. "There's this thing called being an insensitive moron, you're being it now."

He gazed at me with a look of complete innocence. "I am capable of being very sensitive," he said in a light tone. "You just side-track me, so, I have to cover-up the sensitivity with humour."

"I don't side-track you," I informed him, fighting back the tears.

"Alright," he shrugged. "Why are you here then?" he asked smirking.

"I could ask you the same thing, and why are you s-smirking?" It was the edge, I could tell, it was over for me.

"You're doing it again," he said in a highly amused voice.

I took a small breath. In that moment I was just a frustrated, miserable idiot. I hated the world, I hated the tree that was infront of me, I hated everything and most of all I hated myself. I felt like causing myself immense pain, I deserved to be punished for my selfishness. An unwanted and worthless freak, who was accepted so warmly by two people she never could have even dreamt of, and this was how I chose to repay them. I felt sadness at something that was likely to cause them joy. Suddenly I wanted to tell him all about it, just so he could laugh at me, and hurt me; and maybe, just maybe if I was lucky he'd run off and tell his cousin and they'd laugh at me together. Maybe even the tree could spare a few chuckles.

I held my breath as long as I could, but then it was all over; the waterworks started. Involuntarily I sobbed hard.

In my peripheral vision I saw fast movement, I could tell he was startled by my reaction. "Why y-you're—crying?" he asked astonished.

No, I belong to a pack of mer-people, we communicate through our eyes. "Yeah! yeah I'm crying! Go on, you can l-laugh about it. Go, t-tell everyone. Tell your c-cous—" I was unable to complete the sentence, my throat refused to speak. I waited for the chuckle that never came. He wasn't laughing, why wasn't he laughing?

There was a pause in which he dug his hand in his pocket and pulled it out again. "Here," he said, to my surprise it was a tissue.

My hand was trembling, but I managed to take it. I wiped my eyes and took small breaths.

"Can I ask what's wrong?" his voice was amazingly soft and soothing.

I sniffed. "You w-won't understand," I said trembling.

"Try me," he said looking deep in my eyes.

I sighed. "My mom.. she's pregnant," I forced the words out.

There was another pause. "And that's bad?" he asked softly.

"Yes, I mean no! But.. I don't... I told you. I-I'm adopted, and people adopt children w-when they don't have their own. And—and when they do, the adopted ones become.." I found my self unable to say the word.

"Useless," he concluded for me.

I stared at him and sighed. "Yeah."

He exhaled, and I saw him smile. It was a genuine grin. Still smiling he placed a hand of his eyes, and lowering his head he shook it. "Ah, Claire," he breathed.

I blinked, startled by both the words, the 'ah' which I never heard him use and the 'Claire' which he so rarely said.

"Would you believe me if I told you, I know how you feel? Even though it sounds like something from a movie?" he asked with a smile in his voice.

"No," I replied without thinking.

"I suppose not," he shrugged but his smile was still in place. " You know, I was only one when _my_ brother was born," he told me and there was an utter and complete silence. "I didn't like him much, he was new, I didn't know him; nor did I want to. I was always..." he paused to find the right word. "Independent," he said the word half laughing and half smug, as though he were remembering his childhood misdeeds. "I had this yo-yo, I l_oved_ it," he added with a pause. "I kept it with me at all times, I was little, but I was good with it." He was using his hands to illustrate a circular shape. "I was playing with it one day, when he saw it, he was really small, a year or two. He wanted it," he said pensively. "It was mine, why would I have given it?" at that particular moment it seemed as though he was asking that to himself. "I never liked to.." he paused again. "Share." he grinned.

A small smile formed on my lips as I remembered our version of him not liking to share with the chocolate balls. "Shocker," I said under my breath.

"He started crying though," he told me. "And I gave it to him, and you know what he did?"

"Broke it?" I whispered.

He shook his head. "He smiled. For the first time," his gaze was far far away as though he were seeing it now. "I realized that day, that just by giving up something I liked, I found something I loved."

I was speechless, I just stared at him.

"See, that day, I learned something; It depends on you, whether you want something to look forward to or something to dread, just depends on the angle you choose to look at things from."

"I-I'm selfish, I should be happy 'cause my parents would be and instead I.."

"You're not selfish," he assured me. "You're human," he concluded.

I found myself unable to answer.

"I haven't met your father, but have you seen the way you mother looks at you?" he asked me as though I were crazy.

I just blinked.

"I guessed as much," he said shrugging.

I stared at my hands on my lap for a few minutes and took small breaths. I felt a strong affection for this boy sitting next to me, who was always miraculously annoying, but right now, I didn't think there would be someone who could comfort me better than he just did. It was amazing how just in a few minutes he was able to reveal this new side of him. Behind that casual and teasing cover there was a sensitive guy, who could somehow even understand this clumsy mind of mine. At the moment all my fears, and problems seemed stupid. "Do you live with your family?" I found myself asking, before I could even sort the words out. Why the hell...

And he immediately went rigid, which assured me that the conversation was over. "No," he answered coldly.

I sighed and stood up. "It's getting late, I should... you know— get going."

"Right."

I sightly bit my lip, I half expected him to ask to walk me home. Disappointed, I rubbed my eyes once and walked forward. I took only a few paces when I turned back. "Hey, Killua thank you—" I stopped at once because the bench was empty. Which left me wondering whether or not the former event was just fragment of my imagination.

It was that evening, that pleasantly humid evening, that I realized it was okay. Life was, okay. There always came a time when I stumbled and fell, but there was always someone to pick me up, so, it was okay. Nobody's life was perfect, still, it was okay. When it was all over, and after the tears, it was okay. There was all always gonna be a conundrum, but it wouldn't come without a solution.

Here I was, just an ordinary girl, with a messed up past, but it was okay. And then there was him, Killua, a mysterious, extraordinary boy who made me feel really warm and did funny things to my heart and smelled really nice, there was always a time when he shut me out when I got too close, but it was okay. He was just a book, with the pages hidden behind the cover, which, I would eventually manage to open. Only if I would have known then, that flipping through those pages wasn't just a game, but it was danger.

It was a five minute walk back home and it had stopped raining, but the footpath was wet. So, I tripped two times until finally I made it. I glanced once at my watch, it was seven. My mom was probably worried sick about me. I smiled once to myself and pulled out the tissue a particular silver-haired boy had given me and sniffed it. Just as I thought, it smelled exactly like him. I felt my pocket for the paper file and then standing for a few more minutes I tried to decide whether I'd tell her myself or just hand over the document while imagining my mom's reaction to the news I was about to give her, giving up, I decided to walk inside, knowing that it was the only way I was going to find out. Killua's tissue still tight in my palm.

_The warmth in my palm, is the fire in my hand_

_each heartbeat of mine is borrowed, like the hour-glass and its sand._


	7. Ephemeral

Chapter: 7

* * *

**"Ephemeral."**

* * *

_The sky was a deep blue and the stars were merely fickering lights. The slight glow fell on the grass, the tress and the mass of chocolate-brown curls that framed the frowning face of a five-year old girl. Her arms were crossed around her chest, her hands clenched in tiny fists._

"_Claire-kun please try to understand, we'll both get in trouble," the black haired man pleaded._

"_No," the girl said stubbornly. "Giro-san you promised!"_

"_I.. Claire-kun ma'am Ingrid will be furious."_

"_She won't find out! I told you, even if she does, I'm not gonna tell her you helped me, I swear, you can make me pinky promise!" she said holding out one of her tiny fingers._

_The man sighed, still confused. "You'll come out in just fifteen minutes?"_

"_Yes."_

"_You won't get into trouble?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Alright."_

_Noiselessly they walked towards the high window, the man kept looking back his shoulder and little girl could barely contain her excitement._

_Once more the man sighed and then holding out his arms he picked the child up. "Don't take too long, if there's anyone in there, if you hear any noise just come back, I'll be waiting. Don't take more than one book and," he paused. "Be safe."_

_The little girl grinned. "It's just the library near the dining room Giro-san, not a cemetery," saying that she lowered her head and kissed his cheek. "You're the best!" she whispered._

_Then as he raised her up, she put one foot on the window pane and after a little effort made it to the room. The little girl gasped. The small glass windows emanated a million colours and gave the room a look very similar to a church. What seemed like thousand shleves towered her and there was nowhere she could look without seeing a book, a volume or an opus. Before her was the most beautiful room she had ever seen. Very slowly she walked forward and stroked the covers gently, her mouth still held open in amazement._

_The astonishment didn't last long as when she spun around, a tall figure was looking down at her. Dagger in hand, glaring._

* * *

Life. What a funny name for a wicked roller-coaster ride. Takes the breath out of you, but you can't deny how good the adrenaline rush feels.

I noticed gradually how the events I considered the downs of it, were actually the ups. I noticed how I started to realize that my insecurities were completely ridiculous. I noticed how I was starting to comprehend that the past was in the past, that no matter what I did what had happened could not be undone and even I, had every right to live and maybe, even be happy.

I knew now that last night's fears and worries seemed utterly stupid. How my mother did not squeak of delight as I had expected her to, when I informed her of the test results but instead, she sat me down to have a long conversation about how I felt on the matter and it astonished me. How could I have been such an idiot? Had I ever seen the way she looked at me? No, ofcourse not. I knew now that Killua was right, I almost never noticed what went on around me, I was blind. How I was able to tell her convincingly that I was happy, because I was and maybe, just maybe I had something to look forward to.

Killua. Was he real? Was it real how he was slowly changing my life in a way I had not thought possible? Was it real, how last night I dreamed about him playing with a yo-yo as I watched him with a smile plastered on my face? Was it real that for the first time in seven years I didn't have a nightmare? Was it real how when I woke up, I was happy even though I had no idea? It was, and it was way too good to believe. It was like if I did actually even just consider it as reality it would disappear. I was happy, I was and I just hoped that when I opened my eyes, it would be there and not just a beautiful illusion in the form of a dream. A dream, not a nightmare.

**Killua's P.O.V:-**

Midnight, maybe even later. Without making the faintest of noises I slowly slid the window open. I didn't need to, but I held my breath just in case as I climbed in. The room was dark but I could clearly make out the furniture and the silhouette of the figure lying on the bed. I walked on and very carefully sat on the edge of the bed, there was faint creek. Oops. I would have to be careful about that next time. Wait, next time? I didn't even know why I was here now.

I could only make out a few angles of her face. She was breathing calmly and hopefully, dreaming. Maybe I just wanted to make sure she wasn't still crying, how she had startled me back then. Apparently she wasn't now and she looked relaxed enough. I sighed.

How fragile the girl was which made me wonder how small her heart was. How I had felt a very strange feeling when I saw the tears rushing out of her eyes, like a burning sensation in my chest, it was as if I knew I had to stop it even if it was the last thing I did. How I had quickly but composedly made up the story of a yo-yo.

Ha. A yo-yo, brother would have never allowed it, so much as for Alluka to have it. I thought about it though, how it would have been to have a normal childhood. Learning to ride a bicycle instead of carrying out murders of mafia leaders. Odd.

Very gently I caressed the girl's cheek with the back of my hand. Warm, soft and most importantly dry. So, she didn't cry to sleep. Good. But why? Good as it felt, why did it? Why did it matter?

Girls. It sounded like something of a synonym to alien. As a kid, the only 'female' I had ever any interaction with was my mother, who to be honest dressing one of her sons with skirts and kimonos didn't set such an awesome reputation. Growing up, I realized that they were all the same, all having the same intentions, all after one thing; sex.

That's all they ever asked of me, and as I aged further a feeling of deep detest and strong disgust towards them grew with me. I avoided them, of course when there was work involved, I simply had no choice; until... her.

She was the weirdest creature I had ever come to know. The first time I saw her I had expected her to react like all the others, look in my eyes and give in to whatever I said, but she didn't. Instead when I met her gaze, for the first time in my life, I saw a feeling of great hate reflected in them, no girl had ever looked at me that way. Again the second time I saw her she was still as stubborn. She was.. Strange. But strange wasn't the right word. Maybe.. unique?

I admit that at first I got interested but in the end that curiosity of mine just made me fall in a deep, deep pit. I could lie to myself, say that I was just inquisitive, but that wasn't it. Of course it was not. How I could have been dumb enough to allow myself to be trapped like this, I didn't know. All that I knew was that I was an idiot. This wasn't what I came here for, it was stupid how subconsciously I had changed my priorities. Even if I did permit myself to go forward, what sort of future could I provide her with? One filled with lies? She deserved so much better, so much more and someday she would get it. She would someday even get married and have a family. Suddenly an image of her in a white dress alongside a stranger popped in my mind. I clenched my teeth. No.

I moved my face slightly closer to study her features. She looked so serene. My gaze fell down to her lips and I had the urge to do something I shouldn't even think of. _Don't you dare._ I warned myself. I froze for a few seconds, planning my next move and then I gave up. For some reason, I would come up with later, I shut my conscience and as delicately as possible I put my lips on hers. They were softer than I could have thought possible and so.. perfect. After what seemed like the shortest time of my life, in which I couldn't have wished more for anything to last longer, I pulled away and sighed.

I forced myself to get up and walked to the window.

"Killua."

I froze. I must've, no.

But gladly she just shifted her position and sighed.

I heaved a huge sigh of relief, but it lasted shorter than a second until it was replaced with a new feeling. Was it... happiness or was it triumph? Had she just said my name in her sleep? I stood there for a century maybe then forcefully escorted myself out but unable to stop a smile creeping on my face. _You know this isn't right._ I know, but I don't care.

**Claire's P.O.V:-**

I had always dreaded this day, but never would I ever had thought that it would come so soon. I clenched my teeth and tried to ignore the lump in my throat, the emotions I felt were ones that were not foreign to me, they seemed like a mixture of hate, fear and embarrassment. Never had I, in life asked more than I thought I deserved, but here in my now, I knew that the scene before me lacked justice, what I was going through was unfair, I sighed as a curse escaped my mouth. The library was crowded. How? Why? I had no idea.

The one place where I could always find solitude was now invaded by the enemy. I pitied myself and walked out, only to wish I hadn't. Naomi, with her auburn hair tied in a pony-tail, her hands planted on her hips, was glaring daggers at me. "Get lost," she spat.

I quickly walked away, and realized that if Naomi was actually visiting the library, then there was only one explanation, the due time of some important assignment was close, some assignment I probably had already submitted days ago. I shrugged and paced towards the ground, which according my guess was almost empty, except for a few boys who were there for football practice.

I quickly ascended the stairs and made my way to one of the seats and dropped my books there before sitting myself down. I rubbed my hands, as a chilly breeze ran through my hair. I mentally patted the boys in the back, who managed to play in such cold weather.

In winter, it snowed often in Noda, and for a girl like me who hated the rain and the snow, it wasn't in any ways less than hell. One would probably be astonished that I enjoyed the cold but hated the snow, but since nothing else about me made sense, I didn't expect this one to do so either.

Not being a huge fan of football, I never watched any of the school games, but as one particular boy, with glistening silver hair, just like the frost; caught my eye, I couldn't help but stare. His stealth, agility and confidence, just like his looks were beyond perfection. As he scored, another boy high-fived him, and I could see the coach pat his back, he raised his gaze and caught me staring at him. Trouble. I quickly raised the book I had in my lap to cover my face and tried to hide the embarrassment I felt. Jumping right into an active volcano sounded nice right now.

"You check me out even in public, seriously?" I heard a taunting voice.

I held back a scream as I saw Killua sitting casually next to me, his arms crossed behind his neck. "Wha.. how did you..?" I gasped surprised.

"Get so hot? Born with it," he said rolling his eyes.

"But... you.." I stuttered, still in shock.

"Are too sexy? I know," he shrugged.

I looked once between the ground and his face. "You were there a moment ago," I concluded. "How do you do that?"

He shrugged. "Do what?"

"Nevermind," I sighed. Remembering that the last time we met I was crying infront of him and babbling out my worries made me gulp. There wasn't one conversation I had with him on which I could look back and not consider leaving the country.

"So, is a coincidence that I find you wherever I go, or you just can't get enough of me? Because if it's the latter, trust me, I get you."

"How modest," I said rolling my eyes. "I didn't know you joined the team."

He smiled playfully at me.

And just like that I held my breath, a new sort of reflex I had recently developed.

"Are you okay?" he asked concerned. From the look on his face, I dreaded what he saw on mine.

I stood up, my conscience was telling me to run before I did something to completely humiliate myself. "Yes... I'm fine.. I.." I couldn't stop stuttering. "I wasn't even supposed to be here... the libarary.. it was crowded... I just needed a quiet place, I swear I wasn't stalking you," I said quickly grabbing my bag. "I should go," I gasped.

He caught my hand and bored his gaze into mine. "I was kidding, you know?" he looked at me like I was crazy. "Kidding? Joking? When people say things that aren't just for fun? Talk humorously?"

I blinked crazily, I felt like my eyelids were going to fall off.

"Listen, you need a quiet place, right? I have one in mind, I'm sure you'll like it," he said, a trace of affection in his voice.

I bit my lip, hard.

"Will you come with me?" he wa careful not to smile, it was obvious he was scared of my earlier reaction. He was looking at me like I would break any moment.

I nodded weakly. _You, Claire, are the second name of embarrassment._

I could barely keep track of where he was taking me, but I was sure we crossed the gym, or maybe we didn't, all I could really feel was the way his hand held mine. His hand warm, and his grip soft, again like he was afraid I would get shattered.

"This is a place me and Gon discovered, I doubt anyone else knows about it," he said breaking my train of thought.

I found we were standing in front of the janitor's closet. I shook my head. _You're an idiot._ "Seriously?" I asked in disbelief. "Real funny," I told him, tears beginning to form as I prepared myself for my escape.

"Wait," he told me. He opened the door and after forcing me in, shut it. He extended his arm and caught a small cord, that hung from the ceiling, signaling me to step back, he pulled it slightly and a small wooden ladder materialized itself before me barely missing my toe, there was a small thud as one corner hit the ground, but I could see some light above. "Rambos first," he smirked.

Without thinking twice, I climbed it, and the end led to something that took my breath away. "Woah," was all I could manage to say, as I saw a beautiful view of the whole city before me.

"Right?" Killua said, standing next to me.

"This is the..."

"School roof? Yes," he answered my incomplete question

I took a few steps forward. "How did you guys find this place?" I asked in disbelief. The roofs of the buildings were glittering due to the small layer of frost on them.

He dug his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "You got loads of time to do stuff like this when you skip class."

"You bunk?" I asked awkwardly.

"You don't?" he said smirking.

I rolled my eyes. "I can see my house from here," I breathed. The place seemed magical, who knew a school roof could have such an enchanting effect. There was a wall on one side, that seemed purposeless. I turned to him as a question I had never considered popped in my mind. "Where do you live Killua?"

The peaceful expression on his face turned into a cautious one. He merely shrugged.

I hated it how he refused to answer my questions. I chewed on my lower lip as I sat down near on end of the wall.

"This quiet enough for you?" he asked as he paced towards me.

"Yeah," I sighed.

My heart was aching, willing to know the reason this boy always shied away from me, demanding to know why he never let me in. My lower lip trembled slightly as I stood up and faced him. "Why don't you want me to know you? Why do you call me close just to push me away? Why do you want to stay distant?" I blurted out.

His eyes betrayed emotions, of pain, of doubt, but he quickly composed his face. "I want many things, that is not one of them," he shrugged.

"Then what do you want? Because it's getting a bit hard keeping up with you." I pressed. I was tired, I was determined of letting it all out of him.

He didn't speak, instead he just moved closer and closer, and I took a few steps back without actually knowing what I was doing.

He was coming closer, with my last step, my back was against the wall, and he was mere inches away from me. I could taste his exhales on the tip of my tongue.

_Good God_. He was about to kiss me. I had no experience in this field of touch, but I knew enough to tell, that this wasn't any small physical interaction, it was a small commitment, something real. This boy was about to kiss me, a boy I knew nothing about, except his name. This boy who refused to tell me anything about himself, this boy who was just a mystery, this boy, who might not be nothing more than a fantasy, this boy who might be playing games with me. So as I reached the peek of an emotion I was not familiar with, I found my self saying. "Stop."

He pulled away, startled. He was not in any way expecting it. He quickly passed a hand through his hair. His face had lost all signs of the boyishness it always had. That was when I realized, he must be irritated. But I couldn't find myself to feel bad. I did not have enough stamina to mess up my life again.

"I don't know you," I said firmly. "And you don't want me to. You just shut me out everytime I try to get close. You might be here right now but at the end the day, you're just a stranger. I mean the only things that I know about you is that you have four brothers and you had a yo-yo, tell me Killua is that information enough to let a person in your life?"

He just glared at me or maybe he was just gazing, I didn't know.

I side-stepped him and walked towards the exit. "I should go.", and that was that, I wanted him to stop me but he didn't. It ended where it started. I just reached the ladder when I saw a spiky-haired boy standing there with his hazel eyes wide, he just looked at me confused.

"Can I?" I asked, bringing him back to reality.

"Uh, y-yeah, sure," he stepped aside and let me pass.

I went back down and ran out as fast as could. _Idiot, moron, that selfish.._ I felt like I was fuming. I kept racing forward, blinking back tears until there was a small crash and before I could make out what was going on, someone was holding one of my arms preventing me from falling.

"I'm so sorry," said a brown-haired man with sparkling green eyes.

I rubbed my forehead. "Uh, no-no, it's my fault, I wasn't going where I was looking, I mean looking where I was growing, I mean going.. uh!" I groaned.

The man laughed sympathetically and held out a hand. "Katashi Keitomaro."

"Claire," I said shaking his hand.

He glanced at his wrist watch once and then smiled. "Well we'll be seeing each other soon."

I raised my eyebrow. "Uh- Okay?"

He waved and walked away leaving me confused.

* * *

I yawned as I reached the familiar maple door and unlocked it. I was tired, angry and not to mention hungry. Killua's behaviour was a constant conundrum and I couldn't understand why I was letting it get to my head. It seemed as every little good thing that happened to me was ephemeral, everything sort of back fired on its own, or maybe it was me. Maybe, I brought it to myself; maybe I complicated things and created problems that didn't even exist. I could have just let him kiss me instead of making such a fuss or.. no. I did right, of course I did.

When I tuned the world back in I realized that there was a high-pitch enthusiastic chatter coming from the kitchen I took a few steps and then stopped as I recognized the voice. I blinked as I entered the kitchen. "Nonna?" I asked astonished.

The white haired woman smiled warmly and pulled me in a tight hug. "Claire-bear!" She squeaked. _Uh the hideous nicknames._

My nonna, as in my dad's mom. She was that curly white haired granny who baked awesome cookies. My dad didn't, in any way resemble her, of course that was impossible because he like me, was adopted; excluding the rare case of me and my dad. I still had no idea why I called her 'nonna' in general but that was the first word that came out of my mouth when I first saw her.

I hugged her back. "When did you get here?"

"Oh, it's been a while! How've you been?" she asked kissing my forehead.

"Great, great. You didn't even tell me," I said accusingly.

"Ah! Couldn't keep away after hearing the good news, now could I?" she said pointing towards my mother who was seated in one of the dining chairs.

"Oh, right-right that."

"Don't you worry though," she said placing a hand on my shoulder. "You'll still be my favourite baby!" and she pulled me in a tight hug again.

I groaned. "Uhh nonna, I'm seventeen!" I said squished.

"Nonsense, nonsense, you're never to old for your nonna now, are you?"

I rolled my eyes.

"So how many boys has my princess caught yet?" she asked excited.

I sighed walking to the basin and putting my hands under the water. "Do we have to do this every time? The answer's still the same."

"What about that boy who walks you home?" my mom asked casually, while filing her nails.

"What?" I asked loudly, my eyes widening.

I heard my nonna giggle.

"Oh, you know, that boy who came over for that assignment, what was his name, Killua right?"

"B-b y-ou," I paused. "How do you know he walked me home?"

She blew gently on her finger examining her nails carefully. Trying to act casual, I supposed. "I'm your mother, I know things."

I narrowed my eyes as a face flashed in my visions. "Mr. Domoto told you didn't he, didn't he?" I asked furiously.

"Maybe, maybe not," she shrugged.

I groaned. "That..." I gritted my teeth. "Peeking, spying, lying idio-"

"Ah, so there is a boy?" my nonna asked excitedly.

"No! There is not! He's just, he's in my class that's all! I swear!" Shouldn't have sworn though.

My mom rolled her eyes. "Honey, he likes you. Have you seen the way he looks at you?"

I bit my lip. "Yeah, with his eyes?" _What is with you people and the way you all look at me._

My nonna squeaked in delight. "My baby princess finally-"

"There is nothing like that!"

"Is he a fine lad?" she asked boring her gaze into mine as if she could reach my brain.

"Well yeah but-"

"Is he good looking?" she asked raising her eyebrows.

"Kind of but-"

"Have you kissed?" she interrogated.

"What? No! We-"

"Have you had-" my mom began.

"NO!" I bellowed. "It's not-"

"Did he ask you out yet?" my nonna asked, narrowing her eyes.

"HE DID NOT!" I said fuming.

They were both silent and just stared at me.

I groaned and then sighed. "I'm- I-m sorry.. I just.. I'm an idiot."

"No it's out fault, we shouldn't have-" my mom said.

"No, no you're right. It's just he..." I sighed. "Things are really confusing. I.. it's that sometimes he, I mean it looks like he does like me and then.. he just," I sighed unable to find words.

My mom got up and pulled me in an embrace. "Aw, honey. All guys are like that, trust me," she said rubbing my back. "Your dad, uh, you have no idea how he was back then. Trust me, they all drive you crazy at some point."

"Dad?" I asked amazed.

"Oh, yes! They all do that, its in their nature I guess."

"Oh, they do!" my nonna added. "Your nonno, there was a time when he was having second thoughts but I knew how to fix that yes I did!"

"You did what?" I asked cautious.

"Oh, I slapped him. In front of all his friends, gave everything I had in that slap, yes sir and that's the whole reason that we remained married for thirty-six whole years, knocked some sense into him that day and he didn't ever dare look back!"

Me and my mom both laughed.

"So, I should do the same?" I asked playfully.

"Oh, no no," she said hastily. "That depends on the type. Works on the goody-goody ones but if it's an alpha male type, I highly recommend you not to."

"Right," I said.

"He looks like a nice guy though," my mom said softly.

I sighed.

"Honey decent boys are really hard to find, you know and maybe you'll regret letting him go."

"Men," said my nonna narrowing her eyes. "They're just like public toilets, the good ones are taken and the rest are full of shit," she said shaking her head. "The good ones are really lucky catches so be carefully eh?"

"Alright, alright," I muttered. "I think I'm gonna go to bed," I said turning around, the boys lecture definitely had me exhausted.

"What about dinner?" my mom asked.

"Not hungry. Oh and mom," I spun around to face her. "Please tell Mr. Domoto that when we'll need someone to watch over the house while you guys are gone, we'll get a dog and since there is a fair number of canines on the planet, he should stop acting like one," I said and quickly made my way to the stairs.

"Claire!" my mom said in disbelief.

I went up to the room with an evil smile on my face. I decided in that moment that no matter what my mom and my nonna told me out of their relationship experience, I was gonna do it my way. If Killua really did want me, then he'd have to come and get me and there was no way around it.

_My conscience now shimmering, my strength now restored,_

_my heart now determined like the slash of a sword._


	8. Expiation

Chapter: 8

* * *

**"Expiation."**

* * *

_There was a rumble of lightning, which seemed to have made the whole room shake, or maybe it was just the little girl's imagination. Her eyes were wide with fear and her breathing had accelerated at an abnormal rate._

_"Who are you?" asked the tall figure whose face she could not see because she had her eyes covered by her hands._

_Before she knew it, she let out a whimper. She was shaking tremendously. "D—don't hurt me. I—I didn't take anything!" she struggled with the words._

_There was a small pause. "Hurt you?" asked the stranger, astonished. Now that she noticed, his voice seemed fairly polite, he didn't sound like Yeti... Or maybe he was just pretending, like the wolf in her Little Red Riding Hood story._

_She parted two of her fingers and allowed herself a peek at the man. She was still trembling. He was a man. Just a man. But he had a knife. She slowly removed one of her hands from her face and pointed towards the weapon._

_The man's eyebrows arched as he looked in the direction she pointed and his expression became confused as he, himself, did not know he was holding it. "Oh, my," he said guiltily and laughed nervously. "I greatly apologize for frightening you. You see, I was about to have tea and I needed a knife for the butter, I seem to have forgotten that it was still within my grasp," he hesitated. "Would you like to join me?" he asked, smiling politely._

_She studied him carefully for a few seconds until she slowly nodded._

_The man led her a few paces forward where there was a small coffee table and two chairs. He drew a chair back for her and she tried to seat herself, however it was just an inch higher than her reach._

_"May I?" the man asked._

_She nodded again and he carefully picked her up and settled her down on the chair. The atmosphere was quiet as the man offered her a cup of tea and some crumpets. She placed her fingers gently around the cup, just as Yui-san had taught her; after all she needed to make a good impression, and took a sip._

_"What's your name?" the man asked as he buttered a crumpet._

_She blinked twice. "Claire," she said in a small voice. "Who are you?" she asked merely moments after._

_"That's a good question," said the man pensively. He had brown hair, and a pair of matching chocolate brown eyes. The girl was too young to notice, but the man looked exactly like her. He had the same thick lashes, dark eyebrows, and creamy skin. "You can call me Ro," he said after a few seconds._

_"Ro?" she asked, confused. "Do you live here?" she added._

_The man nodded. "Do you?" he asked her in the same tone as she had._

_"Yes," she said as she held her head slightly high. "This is my father's house."_

_"It is?" asked the man, surprised._

_She nodded. "Yui-san told me so, do you know him?" she asked tentatively._

_The man furrowed his eyebrows. "What is his name?"_

_The girl blinked and her expression went blank. "Fathers have names?" she asked perplexedly._

_The man chuckled. "Do you read?" he asked, distracting her._

_"Yes, is this your library?"_

_The man nodded._

_"Why don't you let other people in?" she asked, a bit irritated._

_"I don't?" asked the man puzzled._

_"Yes, that is why ma'am Ingrid doesn't let me here, is it not? Because you forbid it?"_

_"Ingrid doesn't let you come here?"_

_"No!" exclaimed the girl. "She shouts at me, she's not very nice. But I know you told her to do so, because you don't want to share your books!"_

_The man blinked a few times then smiled. "I'm sorry," he said politely. "I would like to share with you."_

_"Really?" she asked, surprised._

_The man nodded._

_She carefully jumped off her seat and walked in his direction."Yui-san says, that when you share, you start to care. If you share your books with me, I will share my candy with you," she said holding out hand. "Okay?" she asked._

_The man's expression turned from confused to amused and then he beamed at the little girl and shook her hand watching her tenderly._

_"Good," she said in her high-pitched voice. "I like you, if you are nice to me, we can be friends, like Jack and Jill," she said, smiling._

* * *

There was a small clattering coming from the window as the raindrops made contact with the surface. The drizzle would rush, slow and stop. Somehow it seemed in sync with how the blood was flowing through my veins.

_'An assassin is incapable of feeling.' _but that wasn't who I was anymore— the restraints were broken.

_'The only emotions an assassin is allowed to feel is determination prior and pleasure, satisfaction subsequent to the kill.' _but I was feeling beyond that— and it stung.

_'You were born only to eliminate, erase, Kill. Any concern or emotion past that is useless; it is to be discarded. Your instinct leads you to terminate, destroy, murder; that is your only priority.' _Lies. All lies— I could feel. _And maybe that's the problem._

_'Anything afar from what you have been trained to be will only lead to disappointment. You will end up killing the ones you thought you loved, your friends. You'll only disappoint them, end them. It is impossible for you to feel.' _Stop. Enough.

Blood. Flesh. Screams. Pleads. These were the toys I grew up playing with. Tears. Corpses. Agony. Despair. My childhood memories.

* * *

_He had always been lost. Searching for even the faintest of lights at the end of the tunnel; it never came. Fears of taking the wrong decisions, learning how to make the tears flow back in, forging walls, shutting everyone out; that was all he had. The three-year-old boy who was worshipped, groomed by his family but envied the ordinary. Coveted a normal childhood. The boy who first held a real toy— a skateboard— when he was twelve._

_Broken, forged again. Destroyed, restored from ashes. Hollow, then filled again. And that was how he came to be. Killua Zoldyck, heir to the Zoldyck family of the world's most dangerous assassins, fugitive, liar, player, cheater; finally started to feel like he was on the right path when he oriented himself around the hazel-eyed boy who drooped of optimism, radiated light. For the first time in his life, Killua Zoldyck felt like he belonged. Gon Freecss was the reason behind the only decision he knew he would never look back on and that was when he first felt_— _compassion. With a promise, from there and on, his pain was his pain and his dream was his dream regardless what the future held._

* * *

I pressed unnecessarily hard on the joystick buttons, hoping they would fall out as I absentmindedly played a dumb video game on the flat screen._This is how you're gonna take out your frustration?_ Shut up. There was no need to feel frustrated. She was a smart girl, she avoided him, she had good senses; her instinct told her better. I clenched my teeth.

I didn't need to look sideways, I could tell he was staring at me, but I pretended to be absorbed in the game.

"What are you doing?" Gon asked in his annoyingly understanding voice. I did not need to be comforted.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I asked, irritated.

"You know what I'm talking about."

I ignored him.

He walked in and went for the TV, turning it off.

"What the hell?" I said dropping the joystick on the sofa. "Damn it, I almost had a high score."

He rolled his eyes. "Sure you did," he said sarcastically. "Don't sidetrack me."

As if I could. I sighed. "What do you want?"

"Why didn't you tell me about her?"

"Who?" I asked, blinking, it wouldn't hurt to keep the act going for as long as I could manage.

He gave me a skeptical look. "Oh, you know. The girl you tried to—"

"Alright, shut up," I murmured. "That was for—"

"And don't you dare lie to me," he interrupted. "I've known you or five years, think that's enough time to figure a person out."

Damn it. I just stared at him.

He sighed. "Since you're gonna keep ignoring all my questions I'm gonna get straight to it, what did you say to her? She looked like she was about to cry."

Great, now you made her cry. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" he pressed.

"Yeah, nothing. That's the problem, I told her nothing and she wants to know everything," I said while staring at the ceiling.

"Seriously?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

I passed a hand through my hair.

"Killua! That's it? I mean, seriously? If all she wants is to know about you, why don't you let her?"

I stood up. "And what exactly am I supposed to let her know about me?" I asked mockingly, glaring at him. "That I belong to a family of murderers? That I killed for a living? Yeah, right. How could I have been so stupid? I should go tell her so next time instead of crying she just jumps off a roof 'cause I'm there. Clever," I said patting him on the back. "Real smart."

He sighed. "Nobody said you had to include that part."

"What is there left if I cross out that part?" I demanded furiously. "That is the only part there is."

"That's not true and you know it," he argued.

"Suppose I do make up stuff Gon, what next, huh? You expect me to play with her while we're here and then when the time's up, I just disappear out of her life just like that?"

"Who says you have to leave if—"

"Alright, let's also consider the impossibility of me staying. What's gonna happen after that? More lies? Let's not fool ourselves into thinking that I'll have a life with her and have a dog and house with those fence thingies."

"You mean gates?"

"Gon, no. I know what gates are."

"You want a dog?"

"No, I think Mike was enough for a lifetime experience."

"He was trained that way!" he accused.

"Well he wasn't exactly a golden retriever by nature, was he?"

"He was a... what species was he?"

I shrugged. "I don't know an over-grown blood hound cross-breeded with Hisoka?"

There was a pause in which we just looked at each other. Hisoka was a sensitive subject; Gon always had creeps when he heard his name.

"That was off topic," I concluded sitting back down.

He turned on the flat screen and plugged in another joystick, and before I knew it, we were both swearing at each other whenever one got ahead of the other.

"Thought we were supposed to tell each other about these things. Girls and stuff you know," he said in a small voice. In my peripheral vision I saw him glance at me. "When you wanna talk I'll be here though," he added.

That was what I liked the most about him. He never pushed me, it was like sometimes he could feel what I felt, maybe read my thoughts even. He had this way of getting to me. "Gon," I said after a while.

"Yeah?" he asked, still staring at the screen.

"Fuck you for being such a good friend."

* * *

**Claire's P.O.V:-**

I stared down at my pen, which apparently had dents on it due to the fact that I was chewing on it at regular intervals. My hands were also sweaty, ignoring the almost freezing weather. Don't look nervous. Like I could help that.

It was calculus, another class which Killua just happened to have with me, and even though he was two seats away from me, I felt like he kept staring at me. Of course, I was too much of a chicken to look up and find out myself so I just kept doodling on my notebook.

The door opened and the class fell silent momentarily. A brown-haired man with green eyes wearing a grey suit walked in. He was the same guy I bumped into yesterday, now that I noticed, he didn't look much like a student.

He cleared his throat and the few whispers that were echoing throughout the room died. "Uh... I know it sounds awkward," he said, scratching his head. "But I'm your new calculus teacher, the name's Katashi Keitomaro by the way and... yeah," he said nervously.

Everybody just stared at him. This wasn't the way most professors talked to us, he must be a rookie.

"What happened to Mr. Hiroshi?" someone asked from the back seats.

"Uh... he had to leave town," the man muttered.

Everyone started whispering again.

He cleared his throat again. "Uh… this isn't going to set such a good impression, and I know you are going to hate me for it but... you are going to have to take a pop quiz," he said guiltily.

There were groans all over the place.

"I know, I know, but... the principal told me I have to check your abilities, it's really not hard at all, really," he said raising his hand to silence everyone.

Then he took a pile of paper sheets from the desk and began to distribute them. "Told you we'd meet again," he said smiling as he handed me one.

"Uh—wha—yeah," I said embarrassed because people were looking at me.

"He's cute, right?" Nora whispered in my ear as he moved away.

"Y-yeah, I guess," I shrugged. I allowed myself one glance at the man and found out that he was currently at Killua's seat, smiling at him, while to my surprise there was an expression of deep loathing on Killua's face with a mixture of surprise which lasted only a moment until he composed his face again. I never believed in hate at first sight before, but after my first encounter with Killua, who was I to brag? Miracles happened.

The pop quiz was very straight-forward and easy; I finished it in about ten minutes and was excused from class. The rest of the day passed real slowly, and contrary to my expectations, Killua didn't even once attempt to talk to me even though we had two classes together after that. Good. I didn't care. You do. Shut up.

* * *

Except for the fact that my dad was back, there was nothing really exciting, and the evening was just as dull as the rest of the day. I desperately needed something to do, I needed to get out of the house maybe, and I found the excuse of picking up my mom's sweater from the dry cleaners.

"You don't have to honey, I can pick it up tomorrow morning, really," she said, blinking a few times.

"No, I want to; I wanna go out for a while."

"Is it about—?" she began to ask.

"No," I lied, cutting her off. "I just need some fresh air mom."

"Alright," she sighed.

"What about Keiko?" asked my nonna from the couch. They had been discussing names for the baby since two hours ago and still the best I had heard was 'uhh' and 'what if'.

My mom looked at her pensively. "No, doesn't sound... right," she concluded.

"What if it's a boy?" I asked as I tucked the pickup card in the pocket of my jeans.

"I know it's a girl," said my mom. "I can feel it, what about something that rhymes with Claire?" my mom asked excitedly.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, like chair," I muttered.

My mom frowned.

I waved her goodbye and walked outside. It was quiet and it wasn't even raining. The trip to the dry cleaners took just fifteen minutes, and didn't get my mind off things even a bit. I looked sideways as I was about to cross the street as the nearest car passed by; I walked towards the other sidewalk when another car just missed my right foot by a millimeter maybe. I gasped. My immediate reaction was to glare at the driver, but instead, on seeing who it was, I just blinked.

Killua was smirking from the driver's seat his elbows leaned against the dashboard and his head held on his hands.

I scowled at him and walked to the foot path. I wasn't exactly sure whether I was feeling good or not. I just kept walking forward, and just as I expected, he followed me, he was driving forward with just as much speed at which I was pacing.

"Why did Rambo cross the road?" he asked smirking, one of his hands on the steering wheel, while the other was leaned against the car window.

"To avoid the idiot," I muttered.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna have to offer you a ride."

"I'm gonna have to ask you to get lost," I said, looking forward.

"Get in, we'll talk."

"Get lost, I'll walk."

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?" he asked, annoyed.

"Why do you have to be such an idiot?"

"Just get in."

"Sorry, my mom said not to take rides from strangers," I muttered.

"You really want to do this the hard way, don't you?"

I glared at him. "I'm armed," I lied.

"Oh, brother," he said rolling his eyes. "Just get in."

"No," I stated as I considered the possibility of running and not tripping.

"Don't think about running, you know I'll catch you," he said casually.

I glanced at him once. He looked... like the literal meaning of sexy. "I wasn't going to, but thanks for the idea," I lied as I sped forward toward the park, taking the route where the street ended. Once I made it, I didn't stop. I went forward and panted as I looked around. The bench. As quickly as I could manage, I hid behind it. It wasn't a very professional hiding place, but it was dark and that would definitely give me some advantage. I took deep, noiseless breaths, I felt like I had run a mile in mere minutes and my ribs slightly ached. I wouldn't be surprised if I pulled up my shirt right now and saw some abs there on my usually flat stomach.

I kept silent, keeping myself alert for any trace of movement or noise. I felt childish, like a five year old trying to get away from baby food or bedtime or a seventeen year old getting away from Killua, which I was.

"You lost me."

I did. I sighed of relief until I froze and looked at my side. Not to my surprise, Killua was sitting to my right with a casual expression. Damn it.

* * *

"Don't act like a kid," he said, irritated as he started the car.

I had my arms crossed around my chest and my lips were fixing into a pout as I was seated in the passenger seat.

"Turn that frown upside down," he joked, looking out the windshield.

"I would like to turn your face upside down," I said in the most threatening voice I could manage.

"Seriously, you're really stubborn."

"Ever met yourself?" I asked furiously, not looking at him.

"Oh, I wish. That is, trust me, the only drawback of being me."

I rolled my eyes. "Ah, the modesty, that's what people love the most about you, I guess."

"Let's not forget the eyes, they all love the eyes."

I bit the inside of my cheek, holding back a smile. "Where are you taking me?" I demanded.

"Well considering the fact that it's freezing outside and that kamikaze mission you just went through, I was thinking of getting you coffee," he said pensively.

"I hate coffee," I said too fast.

"Well, you can get whatever else the hell you want," he said.

The drive was very short and after a few minutes he parked the car in front of a coffee shop.

He got out and pulled my door open, standing right behind me the whole the time, until we got inside. It was cosy inside, not to mention bright, but there was no chance it was gonna boost-up my mood. He got in his chair while I just stood there, arms still crossed around my chest.

"Sit," he said.

"You can't tell me what to do," I objected.

He leaned from his chair. "Just get your ass on that seat," he ordered through gritted teeth, his voice so full of command I found myself sitting even before I could think about it. He got himself a coffee, and since I refused to speak he ordered me a hot chocolate.

"Drink," he said, pointing to the cup in front of me.

This time I did what I was told without arguing and took a sip, it was so good I didn't feel like complaining anymore. "What do you want?" nevertheless I asked him.

He intertwined his fingers and bored his gaze deep into mine. "I thought I made that pretty clear last time," he said casually.

I couldn't understand what I was feeling in that moment. Did all people confess this emotionlessly? "Well, I thought I made myself pretty clear too," I said trying to sound fierce, and of course, failing.

"Why does it even matter?" he asked, still looking deep in my eyes, as if, if he looked hard enough, he would be able to read my thoughts.

"It matters to me," I said firmly and took another sip.

"You know," he said playing with the ends of a napkin on the table. "You're making such a big deal out of nothing; you know the saying: to make a mountain out of a molehill."

I gritted my teeth and stared down at my lap. "Why are we even talking if all you brought me here for was to argue about the same point? We're still where we were yesterday."

"Well, if you didn't notice," he said, in a matter of fact tone. "I was trying to expiate myself."

"Ahh, right. I mean, almost running your car over me, chasing me around the park, then carrying me, against my will, into your car and finally forcing me in here just to argue further is apologising. Right, right," I said apprehensively. "You have a very deranged idea of what expiation means Killua," I informed, giving him a skeptical look.

He opened his mouth to talk when a waitress came to take the bill, as she handed him a leather file. He took it and swiftly slipped the money inside. The waitress was watching him with an expression of pure longing. He kept looking firmly at me all the whole time. "Keep the change," he said and then he turned to her and smiled. An unnecessary smile. Her face became expressionless, she was just staring at him and with a mesmerized expression as she walked away.

My insides were burning up and my blood was boiling. My teeth were gritted hard, and I was so furious I felt like crushing walnuts. Yes walnuts.

"Sit back down," Killua said; informing me of the fact I was standing with my fist clenched tight.

"No," I refused, trying to keep my voice composed. "If all you brought me here for was to show me how many candidates you have waiting in line, well then, thank you, but I think I already had a faint idea." I grabbed my bag. "And don't follow me," I added as I walked out.

* * *

**Killua's P.O.V:-**

I slipped my hands in my pockets and took a few steps back, trying to make out a proper view of the window above of me. For the first time in my life, I thought I understood what people meant when they said, "Girls drive you crazy."

I glanced at my wrist watch. Two hours had passed since she strode out of that coffee shop. Damn it. I thought I was doing it right this time. She was just so... obstinate, she was the first person I had met who just as stubborn as I was.

Good thing I had Gon for advice. _"Girls only care about little things, like your birthday, your favourite colour, and things like that and if she asks about your family, you know, just... wing it,"_ _he said guiltily_. Wing it. I was going to '_wing it_.' What else could I do?

I walked towards the small, leafless cherry tree and grabbed the closest branch firmly. I swung upwards, until the window was just a jump away. As noiselessly as possible, I held on to the window pane and peeked inside. It wasn't late, of course, so the lights of her room were on and to my surprise she was also there, standing, frowning beside the bed. I couldn't tell what was going on because all of a sudden, she picked up a hair brush from the side table and threw it to the wall, with which it collapsed and fell down. She just stood there glaring at it; her arms crossed around her chest, until she sighed and dropped her arms limply to her sides and went to pick it up.

"Sorry Eddie," she whispered.

I looked around the room, it was empty. Eddie who? Did she just apologize to a hairbrush? Had she just called that thing by a name? Were they all like that? Or was talking to lifeless object just a code for something? I shook my head, and after giving it a moment's thought, I lightly knocked on the window.

She got startled and looked around for the sound of the noise until her gaze fell on me and her eyes widened.

"Open up."

"Wh-what the hell are you doing here?" she asked, confused.

I gritted my teeth. Apparently, she had no idea how hard it was to remain balanced while you were holding on with just your fingers. "Just open this damned window," I whisper-shouted.

There was a pause for a few seconds, after which she crossed her arms around her chest. "No."

I glared at her and firmly gripped the window pane before pulling it up.

Her jaw dropped.

I folded one leg, placed my chin on it and dropped the other when I climbed in the window side. "Guess it had to be the hard way," I said, shrugging. "I'm not gonna even take ten minutes," I assured her.

She glared at me; she must've realized that her disapproval was certainly not going to stop me.

"What—what do you want now?" she asked, trying to act menacing. Like I had once told her, her fiery-filled acts merely made her resemble an angry kitten.

"July seventh," I said as I jumped inside.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"That's my birthday," I informed her as I walked on and plopped down on her bed. "That would make me... seventeen and two months," I concluded.

"Wait, why—?" she asked puzzled.

"Black," I said interrupting her. "That would be my favourite colour," I said, crossing my arms behind my neck.

She pursed her lips, still looking slightly perplexed. "But—?"

"Chocolate balls, as I'm sure you might have figured out, happen to be my favourite food or as people would say 'snack'," I said as I examined her room carefully. "But all sorts of desserts work though," I added.

She opened her mouth to speak, but I beat her to the chase.

"I hate spicy food," I said, grimacing. "And I'll be honest, I'm not a veggie-loving guy, red peppers are the worst anyhow," I said, moving my hand side-ways.

She didn't attempt to speak this time; she just changed into a sitting position on the floor, leaning on her elbows, her chin on her palms. Like kindergarten kids, when they were told amusing stories.

And so, I didn't stop. I kept telling her every minor detail about myself, even the most meaningless bits, of course, leaving out some unpleasant parts. Okay, all the unpleasant parts, and to my surprise, her eyes were full of what seemed like interest. I talked for what seemed like the longest time I had in my life, and found myself using my hands to properly explain things to her, she nodded where she wanted to indicate me to go on, and even asked questions when she didn't understand or wanted to know more. Also, as I noted, she was smiling. Constantly smiling, a smile that reached her eyes.

"Yeah, that's like the best TV show ever!" she squeaked before she knew it, and to my surprise she didn't stutter or look away embarrassedly, she just kept talking that way; a way I had never before heard her talk. I liked that.

I had to stop myself from staring at her face for too long. It was hard because at times, it seemed like I couldn't remember exactly what was going on. I only allowed myself a three second glance at her every minute; it was ridiculous the way I was behaving. Maybe my guardian angel was drunk; I scoffed inwardly, like I had one.

So, I settled for taking in other details of her, like her hair. She had nice hair. She had really nice hair, a dark brown shade which seemed to lighten a bit at the tips, exactly like her eyes. But I noticed that she always wore it in the same way; held up in a messy bun like thingy. Why didn't she ever let her hair down? Girls let her hair down, didn't they? I wondered how she would look if she ever let it down. I bet she'd look—

"Killua?" she said, waving her hand a bit.

"Yeah?"

"I asked you something," she said, staring directly into my eyes and making my heart feel unsteady.

"Sorry, come again?"

"What's the most insulting thing you've been called?"

"A pine cone," I lied. Because what was I even supposed to say to that?

She raised an eyebrow and laughed. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, I think I could serve a better purpose than be a conical vessel for…" I paused as something sank in. "Did you just laugh?" I asked, astonished.

She blinked. "What?"

She _laughed_. She _really_ laughed, and it was a real laugh, not that sarcastic, eye roll, taunting laugh. She laughed. It was... whoa, it was something else completely. It seemed like the first time she had laughed in a really long time. It felt like there was this whole new person, buried deep inside her, who appeared in the form of quick glimpses. I wanted to know who she was, I wanted to let her out of that shell and set her free. I wanted her to show me who she was.

"Killua," she said softly.

"Yeah?" I asked a bit startled.

"You're staring," she informed me.

I cleared my throat weirdly. "So, as I was saying..." That's it, no more looking at her.

She asked me the most insignificant questions I could have thought possible. Including what colour my toothbrush was... _girls_.

"And yeah… well, that's pretty much all of it," I said, shrugging after a very long read-aloud of my biography, carefully picked-out parts of my biography.

She got up and walked to the bed sitting herself down on the side and before she could even ask, I already knew her question. "Tell me about your family," she said softly.

I sighed. "Well... I have a father"—I tried to avoid the flashes that made their way to my mind. "And a mother—four brothers"—I prevaricated. "A grandpa and a great-grandpa." I made it brief but it seemed to settle heavily on my chest. The lies I kept telling her and the truth that she was better without.

"Why did you move here?" she asked, not meeting my gaze, apparently she was still scared I might react to that.

I sighed, again. "Actually." More lies. I couldn't look in her eyes so, I went through the drawer on her side table, she didn't seem to notice though. "I moved out and my parents got furious, and so we don't really talk anymore, and, well, I moved here because... I hate big cities," I made up. "I wanted to complete my graduation in a quiet and... normal place," I shrugged. "I didn't know you wore braces," I asked her as I examined an old picture of hers.

Her eyes widened. "Give me that!" she said snatching it out of my hand and tucking it in her pocket. "And your cousin?" she asked getting back to the topic.

"He just... sticks with me," I shrugged, again. "Is that all?" I asked, masking my annoyance.

"Just… one more question," she said in a small voice.

I gave her a sarcastic look. "What?" I asked expecting another question about my family.

"Where did you get that hair colour?" she asked, biting her lip, like it was some private information.

"Oh," I said a bit surprised. I considered it for a moment. "My... dad," I concluded.

She didn't say anything, she just stared at me for one long moment, and I didn't want to be the one to break the silence. Then, pensively, she bit her lip and her gaze fell down on mine for a fraction of a second. Then, very slowly, she started to lean in.

I dropped my arms to my sides, carefully positioning them.

"Killua," she whispered, her lips coming closer. "Thank you for..." but she didn't say anything further, her lips were just a millimeter away.

"I collect action-figures," I whispered.

She stopped and then rolled her eyes.

"What?" I demanded. "You asked for it."

She giggled a bit breathlessly and placed one hand behind my neck. She was coming closer... this was it. That moment could have been an hour, a day, a week, a month, a year, a decade, even a century maybe. She was almost there… almost mine.

The door swung open. "Honey, have you seen my— oh," said her mother surprised.

We both pulled away from each other faster than I could have thought possible. I looked away scratching my head while she started rubbing her face nervously. "Uh—y-yeah mom?" she asked, clearly embarrassed.

Her mother pursed her lips and there was a long pause before she turned to me. "Killua, dear," she added.

"Yes ma'am?" I asked, faking innocence. I was surprised she remembered my name.

"Would you like to come for dinner this weekend?" she asked pleasantly.

There was a brief moment in which I saw the girl move her head sideways.

"That sounds great," I said convincingly.

"Lovely," she said softly, until she got out and shut the door behind her.

The girl covered her face with her hands and groaned.

I opened my mouth to speak.

"Don't," she warned.

A smirk materialized itself on my face. "So, yeah. I'll... see you this weekend."

"You'll see me," she said through gritted teeth. "Tomorrow at school."

"Right. Tomorrow at school," I repeated lightly. "The weather seems nice," I commented, resisting the urge to laugh as I walked to the window.

She followed me with her eyes, glaring.

"Looks like a storm is building up though," I added, as I disguised a chuckle as a cough. "Would you look at that?" I said pretending to be surprised as I looked out the window. "It almost seems as someone's mother invited a guy to dinner," I said chuckling. "Hey, Eddie," I added. "Look out for her will you?" I said in the direction of her hairbrush and hopped out. I could mentally picture the way her eyes widened, even though I didn't see her. I heard her groan behind me. I looked sideways and decided that I felt like jumping instead of climbing back down. It was okay. I could fly tonight.

* * *

_As I soar in the air, with feelings so pure,_

_I realize that in times of woe, mere belief is the cure._


	9. Salient

Chapter: 9

* * *

"Salient."

* * *

_The sunlight. It was how it streamed through her chocolate brown locks as they shook when she ran. He would watch her; always. When she sat in the orchard, her tiny legs crossed and her chin leaned on the palms of her delicate hands as she stroked the grass, he would wonder what she was thinking. He would watch her when she counted her steps while walking on the cold hall floor. He would hear her delighted laughter as it boomed and echoed through the empty rooms; it would make him smile. He would peek at her when she sometimes argued with herself over what was above the sky and frown as she would shut one of her eyes and encircle the sun with her small fingers. He would watch her as she read to herself, or as she bit her lip in deep concentration. He would see the gleam in her eyes when she was excited._

_She carried an outline of light and colour with her wherever she went. He had watched her laugh, he had seen her cry. She had painted the mansion's empty walls with joy, and she spread warmth all around._

_He shouldn't have a preference, but out of the three, she was the one who amazed him the most. He would watch her in awe; she had a kind heart. She had a way of getting to everyone around her._

_There were times when he considered calling out to her, talking to her, laughing with her. Letting the little five year old child soothe some of the hurt in him. But there was always the one thing that stopped him. He couldn't let her know him; he wanted to live free of that guilt. He didn't want her to ever know him, she would be ashamed of him, and she would hate him if someday she knew._

_She was small, full of life and joy. She didn't know him, but he loved her. He had no right to, but he loved her. So, as she asked him his name with curiosity burning in her eyes, he masked himself. He would let her live with a ghost of his reality, maybe this way, if someday she found out, she would hate him a bit less. He asked her name in return, even though he knew; he knew so well. He knew everything about her and he had loved her long before she ever saw him._

_"Ro?" the little five year old girl waved her hand in front of the brown haired man. "Are you sleepy?" she asked, blinking._

_"No," he said, startled out of his thoughts. "Just, thinking."_

_She cocked her head. "I think too," she smiled. "Me and Luca, we think about what we will play next."_

_He beamed at her. "Do you like your book?" he asked gently._

_She nodded. "But, Ro, I want that one." she pointed at the red, ancient cover of the volume placed on the high shelf._

_He found it odd, that she should show interest in reading the one that appealed to him the most. "It's very difficult," he confessed. "You can't read it yet."_

_"I can, I can understand. I know how to read," she insisted._

_He glanced at her pensively and knelt on his knees. "Let's make a deal, when you can reach it, you can have it."_

_She grinned, "I can keep it too?"_

_"Yes, but only when you can get all the way up there," he pointed to the raised compartment._

_"It's okay," she said looking at her feet. "Yui-san says I grow up really fast."_

_And fast she did grow, when the days turned into months and the months into years. When the sun rose and was dipped in the darkness once again, the cycle was repeated and each moment ticked by the clock, disintegrated into non-being._

_"There," said the seven year old girl, holding the red ancient covered book up. "Mine," she smiled and got off her tip toes._

_"I would call that cheating," accused the brown-haired man, "But I guess a deal is a deal."_

_"I'll have this read by tonight."_

_"It's not how fast you read it though," corrected the man, smiling. "It's how deep you do, just as it doesn't matter what's on the outside of the cover, everything is within."_

_The girl grimaced. "You say that all the time, I don't get it," she admitted._

_"Nevermind, just promise me, you'll keep that with you and you'll keep it safe," he said indicating the scarlet printed volume._

_"I will," she agreed. "The Three Magi," she read from the cover. She closed her eyes in concentration and repeated his earlier used words. "Everything is within."_

_"That's right. Everything is in the book, Claire, it's all you need."_

_She raised an eyebrow as she looked at him._

_"Stay safe," he said, shutting his eyes slowly._

_She gently traced the dark circles under his eyes with her fingers. "You look tired, are you sick?" she asked concerned. He had looked weaker with each passing day since the previous year._

_"Just a bit under the weather," he said hastily. "Nothing serious," he stood up and stroked her hair. "Goodbye then."_

_"Are you going somewhere?" she asked, worried._

_"No," he assured. "Just to take some rest. I will see you again," he said but his voice lacked any hope and surely, even though he forced her to believe the contrary, that was the last time she saw him._

* * *

I ticked my pen, trying to create a suitable enough tune in my head. Pretending to be actually absorbed in history lectures was actually one of the hardest parts of my life. There were mainly three reasons for that:

One, the teacher hated me since Killua had expressed interest in working on an assignment with me. Two, I hated the teacher because she hated me, and also because she looked at Killua in a way that was, in no way, considered proper; it made me feel a weird feeling which I had deciphered as jealousy. Three, I hated the subject.

"Yo," Killua whispered from my side. But on the plus side, history wasn't so bad as long as I had the blue-eyed boy next to me.

"Hi," I whispered back and allowed myself one glance at him. Increase in heartbeat, check.

"You look tired," he said, looking deeply in my eyes. "Didn't you sleep well?"

I gave him a small smile. Somehow, I really liked the concern in his voice. "No, actually I slept really well, I don't have nightmares anymore so I get a proper amount of sleep these days," I said enthusiastically.

"You had nightmares?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

My smile faded. Damn it, I wasn't supposed to say that. "Y-yeah... sometimes."

He studied my face carefully and I dropped my gaze. "You don't look okay."

"Uh... well I do feel a bit tired," I admitted. "And my hands are really sweaty."

He caressed my cheek with the back of his hand. "Your face is all hot, are you sick? You should check in with the nurse," he suggested.

I shook my head. "No, actually I'm on my period."

"Oh," he said and there was a small pause. "Give me your hand."

I held my hand out and he took it. Straightening both our hands until my arms was running the length of his, it felt ice cold.

"Does that feel good?" he asked.

"Yes," I admitted. "It feels really good, thanks," I said breathlessly. If only he knew what I was actually referring to. "Why are you so cold?"

He smiled crookedly. "I'm not; you're the one who's burning up."

Someone cleared their throat loudly. We both looked up and the whole class was staring at us some with mouths wide open while most of the girls were glaring at me. But it was nothing compared to the vicious glare the teacher gave me.

I tried to break free, extremely embarrassed, but Killua simply lowered our intertwined hands and looked forward as casually as ever.

I looked down wishing that the ground would swallow me up as I tried to control my uneven breathing. I tried to avoid getting distracted as I listened half-heartedly to the report on the Second World War.

Suddenly, there was a moment in which lightening struck. Killua started rubbing his thumb lightly on the back of my hand. No. My heart was in my throat. It lasted about three seconds until the bell rung and he let go, but it was enough to make me feel partially faint.

"You should still go to the infirmary though," he suggested as we walked out.

"I'm fine," I whispered, glancing sideways for safety reasons.

"You look like a zombie, on fire," he added.

I scowled at him. "You look like a... pinecone," I said, narrowing my eyes.

He rolled his eyes. "Heartless Rambo crushed my soul," he placed his hand on his heart.

I gave him a skeptical look. "So... um, you're busy tonight, right?" I said, attempting once again to talk him out of coming to dinner tonight, like I had been trying to all week.

"Nope," he said, smirking. "I'm as free as a pineconeless pine tree."

"What—" I stopped as I opened my locker. "What about your cousin, huh? He'd be alone, I mean— uh, you know what I mean," I murmured. Even I didn't know what I meant. I stuffed my books in.

"I think," he said in a business-like manner. "Gon can heat up his own dinner in the microwave for just one evening without setting the house on fire," he looked away like he thought the exact opposite.

"What if—" I said, thinking of some worst-case scenarios, "What if there was some zombie apocalypse, huh?"

"I think that already started," he said, eyeing me.

I sighed as we walked to the grounds. "My life is over," I whined as I pictured tonight. My hyperactive mom, my awkwardly hesitant dad, my extremely jumpy nonna and Killua Hayashi in one house.

"What is it with you girls and drama?" he asked, annoyed. "My nail broke, my life is over! I should at least pay it some respect by having a funeral for it," he squeaked in a weird high-pitched voice, which was supposed to be an imitation of mine. "Seriously."

I pursed my lips and held back a snort. "I do not sound anything like that."

"I'm so sorry Eddie, my wise and advising hair-brush, did it hurt? I'll call an ambulance," he mumbled in the same voice.

My eyes widened. "You jerk—" I said, trying to smack his shoulder, but he dodged it and I lost my balance and fell straight down, grazing my knee with the pavement. "Ouch," I bit my lip.

He knelt down on his knee. "Stay still." he rolled up the hem of my jeans.

"Is it bleeding?" I asked shutting my eyes. Blood was the last thing I needed.

There was a pause. "No."

"Oh, God." I pressed my palm to my forehead. "It is, isn't it?" I asked, slightly panicked. Don't think of the blood, don't, don't.

"Just hold still." He dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out a tissue and gently wiped my knee, I held my breath; I could smell the blood.

"Distract me," I murmured.

"What?" he asked, perplexed, still staring the wound.

"Say something, anything to get my mind off the blood. I— I feel dizzy," I pleaded.

He placed a hand behind my back and one below my legs.

"What the— hey," I complained as he held me, bridal style.

"You're going to the infirmary," he informed me.

"Wha— wait!" I said as he carried my back to the hall. "Killua!" I whisper-shouted as all the people stared at me.

"What? Are you six?" he asked, irritated. "What's with you and not going to the nurse?"

"I— The needles hurt okay?" I blurted out, raising a hand to shield my face from the viewers.

He snorted. "Needles. Oh, the horror." he opened the door to the infirmary with his foot and put me down on one of the beds.

We both looked around; there was no one. Killua took the liberty of exploring one of the cabinets.

"That's— isn't that wrong? I mean, won't you get in trouble?" I asked, trying my best not to stare at my bleeding knee.

He took out some cotton, an antiseptic bottle, and a pack of bandages. He opened the lid of the bottle as he ignored me.

"So, um, what if you get sick or something?" I asked, once again attempting to make him drop out of coming to dinner.

He rolled his eyes.

"I'm serious—what if—wait. Wait," I shifted my arms to my sides. "You don't know my family. They're—horrible," I muttered. "My dad, he is, trust me, you guys will hate each other."

He sighed as he quietly applied the medication, which stung. "Shut up already," he pleaded.

"My dad, he's—he's so mean—he's horrendous, he—doesn't like people who have blue eyes," I said boring my gaze into his. Somehow, trying to make my nonsense sink into his brain.

He gave me a skeptical look. "Wow, you're even dumber than you look."

I pursed my lips. "What if—what if Pluto and Mars collide?"

"Too bad for them," he answered as he put on the bandage. "Good girl," he patted me on the shoulder. "For once you didn't whine on something," he pulled out what I recognized as a bunny head-shaped lollipop from his pocket and handed it to me.

"Thanks," I looked at his face. He was so beautiful, I could only stare.

"Can you make it home?" he asked, checking his phone.

I nodded.

"Good, I'll see you later," he walked towards the door.

"Wait," I said quickly.

He turned around, his gaze questioning.

"What if my grandmother says you should get a haircut?" I debriefed, playing my last card.

His expression changed from bored to thoughtful. He scratched his head. "Then I guess I would," he shrugged.

* * *

_The green-eyed man shifted his weight from one foot to another as opened the plain brown door that held the tag 'Keitomaro'. He dropped the files on the wide desk and let the brief case drop to the ground as he heaved a huge sigh. He fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his face while flexing the muscles of his shoulders._

_"You have nerve," said a voice from behind, "Showing your face to me again."_

_He turned around, his expression in fake surprised, "Killua?"_

_The silver-haired boy was leaning against the wall, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes, murderous. "Stop this act," he ordered. "I am not playing this game of tag with you anymore."_

_"I fail to understand what you are saying," the man said innocently, "I don't know—"_

_"Shut it," he commanded in a calm tone. "Don't make me do something ugly. I have just two words for you: get out," he spat. "Get out of this town, take it as an advice, or stay and watch your back every second."_

_"This is a mere coincidence!" the man argued. "I did not know you were currently residing here, I do not have any other purpose here than what appears."_

_"Still the dirty cheat you were years ago, eh? Lying your way out of trouble, you disgust me."_

_"This is misunderstanding, I am just as surprised as you are—"_

_The seventeen year old boy shut his eyes in frustration. "Give me one good reason not to kill you right here, right now," he demanded. "You continue to claim your death, I have granted you so many chances; my tolerance doesn't live long," he confessed._

_The man stopped still until after a while his face split into an evil grin. "Because as you claim, you're not a murder, you have no fault in what happened seven years ago. According to you, you are no longer connected to your family; that is the past."_

_A muscle in the boy's jaw twitched. "I am not answerable to you, although I will repeat this to you again. Your family's murder was an assigned mission, I only obeyed instructions. If you want revenge go find the culprit who ordered their death. I had no personal grudge against them."_

_"You killed them," he spat, his hands shaking with rage. "You killed them before my eyes."_

_The boy bore his gaze deep into the man's. "You know what forces me to let you off every time? It's the pity," he walked closer to him. "Look at you. You know you have no real purpose in life; you satisfy your meaningless existence with believing in a surreal goal. It's not too late, there's always a chance at redemption; don't waste your life."_

_The man glared at him bitterly. "Go to hell."_

_The boy smirked. "I will, but I promise you, I will get you there first if you ever get in my way again."_

_The man's figure trembled with anger as he gritted his teeth._

_The silver haired boy patted his shoulder. "Thank you for your time, professor. Don't make me kill you," he walked out just as casually as he had walked in. Now that his job here was done, he had a visit to the barber and a dinner to attend._

* * *

"You know that I know that you know you're cheating right?" I asked my dad as he fished another card from the deck.

"Am I?" he asked innocently.

I rolled my eyes. My dad never cheated, unless he had other intentions. "If you wanna talk about something, you just have to ask. There's no need to pretend to play with enthusiasm and bring it up as an after the game conversation," I informed.

He shrugged. "I don't need to say anything."

I rolled my eyes again. "You're forgetting you're an awful liar."

"I'm no lying," he defended. "It's not like I'm putting up this act to ask you about the guy Hana mentioned," he said examining his cards.

I face palmed. "Seriously, you too?" I said looking around. Just as I thought. My mom was pretending to work on dinner poking salad with a fork and my nonna was reading a magazine... upside down.

"I'm sorry," he pleaded. "It's just that... I'm your dad, it's my job."

I sighed.

"So, do you, I mean— you know like—" he began.

"Dad, it's nothing like that we're just friends," I murmured.

"Really? Because Hana said something about you both k—"

"Alright!" I groaned. "Can you guys not make such a fuss about it? He's coming to dinner in a few hours since I couldn't talk mom out of it and so yeah, you'll get to know him and fulfil your fatherly duties," I sighed. "Just don't— if you guys could be just a little less—" I paused to find the right word. Humiliating, embarrassing, hyperbolic, crazy."Jumpy," I ended up saying.

"We're not jumpy," said my mom. "We're lively. Nobody likes boring parents, for example we should have some games tonight—"

I shot her the look. "Okay, okay. No jumpiness."

"And a little less loud?" I begged glancing at my nonna.

She gaped at me. "I'm old, I'm supposed to be loud," she argued.

"Oh, come on," I encouraged. "You don't look a day older than seventy five."

She gave me a skeptical look. "I'm sixty two."

"A girl at my school was asking me if you were my sister."

"If you're trying to flatter me," she said flipping through the upside down magazine. "It's working."

I grinned.

"Okay," agreed my nonna. "We'll be less loud and jumpy—"

"And awkward," I added hastily.

"Yes," my mom joined. "But," they both said firmly.

"But?" I asked confused.

"Only on one condition."

I raised an eyebrow. "That would be?"

* * *

I stepped out of the bathroom and took one look at myself in the bedroom mirror as I straightened the creases on the dress my mom and nonna had forcedly made me wear. I had to admit it didn't look as bad as I thought, white suited me well. I spun around examining every part of the dress. It was simple, with a little lace and fell down to my knees. I still couldn't understand why I let them talk me into this, it was ridiculous.

I heard something behind me click and when I turned around a star-struck looking Killua was staring at me with the window wide open behind him.

We both just gazed at each other for a while.

"Sorry," he said. "Must be the wrong house," he pretended to turn around and get out of the window, a smile in his voice.

"Is it too much?" I sighed. "I'll go change," I said hastily.

"Hey," he called. "I was kidding; you know that thing I told you about the other day?"

I rolled my eyes. "I thought you would come through the door at least this once."

"I will," he said, throwing himself back on the bed. "Later."

I sat down beside him and covered half of my face with my hands. "My mom made me wear this stupid dress— I didn't want to," I said, my voice sounding like Darth Vader coming through my hands.

He glanced up at me. "May force be with you," he joked.

I studied him carefully, there was something different about him, and I just couldn't put my finger on it. "Did you get a hair-cut?" I asked in disbelief as I examined the silvery strands which were about an inch shorter.

"No, it's autumn, plus I have systemic lupus so I am shedding," he said, lacking his usual confidence.

I smirked. He was feeling uncomfortable. I cleared my throat. "I like what you've done with your hair, looks nice," I said softly.

His gaze darted to mine in milliseconds. "You do?" he asked cautiously.

"Yeah," I bit my lower lip. "I mean, how did you get it to come out of the nostrils like that?"

He rolled his eyes and smiled crookedly as he stood up.

He was wearing a collared button-down shirt and jeans. He picked the collar with his fingers uncomfortably. "Do me a favour: can you pretend to be surprised when I give you those?" he said pointing back at the bed.

I looked at the small bouquet of roses lying there, unnoticed. "Woah— that's so— they're really pretty."

He sat back down on the bed, taking off his shoes this time. "What am I supposed to talk about with your folks?" he asked casually.

I smiled as I realized why he was behaving so weirdly: he was nervous. "Um— my mom likes uh... pets? Just— I don't know, she's loud," I admitted. "She likes— you know blonde stuff," I shrugged. "My dad likes books, um— you know, he's a lot like me," I added. "He's not really talkative, kind of reserved I guess, oh, and whatever you do, don't talk good about Hunters in front of him; just... praise the community services, I don't know."

"Why?" he asked confused.

"It's— really complicated and long."

"I do complicated," he pressed.

I sighed. "My dad—he was, um— it's that, he was adopted, too," I mumbled playing with my fingers. "There was a huge explosion in Daitō back when he was eight—his parents died and he just had two of his brothers left, one of them was badly injured. My dad thought—he thought the Hunters would come and rescue them but he was wrong," I breathed. "Nobody came and his brother didn't make it. He was devastated, they spent three days under that wreckage until some people found them and they were transferred to an orphanage." I paused. "Just when things couldn't get worse his other brother just—disappeared one day and my dad just—broke down," I said staring at my feet. "Long story short, he blames the Hunters for everything. He thinks if they would've come then things wouldn't have been this way."

"And you think the same, I mean, you have a grudge against them too?" he asked guarded.

I laughed a bit breathlessly. "Don't tell my dad this, but I considered running away from home when I was twelve to take the Hunter exam, I was such a wannabe, God." I shook my head. "I thought it was a quiz or something."

He raised an eyebrow and studied my face carefully, he looked deep in thought. "Do I look okay?" he asked eventually as he got up and put his shoes back on.

"Yeah, you look um— sturdy." I walked to him. "Just." I unbuttoned the first button of his shirt and his eyes widened. "Chill, be yourself." I straightened his collar and smiled at him.

He glanced behind me at the mirror. "God, I look hot."

I rolled my eyes. "There he is."

"The fantastically sexy lad with the amazing hair?"

I pushed him back. "The idiotically smug asshole who annoys the hell out of everyone."

He took my hand and a step back as he grabbed the bouquet from the bed and kissed it lightly. "Admit it, you love that about me." he grinned and threw me a salute as he disappeared out of the window. I just blinked like an idiot for the next few minutes.

* * *

I slowly descended the stairs. Feeling extremely self-conscious with the dress on. I glanced up; everyone was looking at me with their mouths wide open. Okay, so I never wore dresses. Big deal. Still this wasn't reason enough for them to stare at me like I was a mutated coconut who had sprouted a leg.

"If you guys keep looking at me that way I swear I'm gonna go change right now." Everyone shifted their gaze as if I was invisible and something I noticed, Mr. Domoto was also in the crowd. So, he was also included in the guy judgement council conference. I mentally rolled my eyes. I still had a grudge against him because of the time he told my mom about Killua, so I assigned myself a mission for the night. Give him hell Claire.

I positioned myself at the couch near the door securing the act of opening it once Killua got here. I twiddled with my thumbs for about two minutes, still safely ignored, until I heard what clearly sounded like the rumble of a car engine as it got louder and finally died.

Approximately a minute later, there was a knock on the door. I took a deep breath and got up. But to my disbelief Mr. Domoto beat me to the chase. He already had the door wide open by the time I reached and revealed a tall, lean and sturdy looking figure with silver hair holding the same bouquet of roses I saw upstairs.

They gave each other a 'manly' look and shook hands. I didn't know whether that was a good sign or not. Males could be confusing.

"Minoru Domoto," his eyes darted outside for the fraction of a second.

"Killua Hayashi," he said firmly.

I glanced between the two for a few seconds before deciding to intervene. "Hey," I said catching his attention.

He smiled. The same genuine smile that always made me crave for more. "Hi, these are for you," he said handing me the bouquet.

I fake-widened my eyes pretending to be taken off guard and gasped. "God— they're beautiful. Thanks."

He simply nodded and walked in.

But now was the time where I couldn't delay it anymore. Here came the introductions. "This is my dad," I said gesturing towards him with a hand. "Dad, this is Killua."

There was another 'manly' handshake, but if I didn't perceive wrongly it seemed a lot less formal and tense than the one before.

"You already know my mom, and this is um—my—" _dog,_ I almost wanted to say. "Neighbour," indicating to him. "And that's my nonna," I mumbled.

My mom lightly hugged him, and for a second, I believed I was out of the danger zone, but suddenly my nonna grabbed Killua's face and kissed him on both cheeks. "Ah, he is as handsome as you said!" she squeaked.

I froze. Okay, now my life was over. What happened to not being loud, jumpy and awkward? Why didn't I say embarrassing?

Killua chuckled lightly, restoring me from my close death, and awkwardly rubbed his neck. Everyone joined in the laughter, everyone except me, who was fighting for air.

Killua's legs were both parted from each other and he was leaning his arms on his knees, seemed like a casual enough position as he was seated on the sofa. There was a short quietude, in which I prayed more than I ever had in my life.

Mr. Domoto grunted. "Renault?" he asked.

I blinked, unable to comprehend his language.

"Yeah, Fluence," Killua answered lightly. "Latest."

"On petrol?" asked my dad joining in.

"Yeah, great mileage," Killua answered.

Cars. They were talking about cars. God. It was weird how these three seemed to have bonded in three seconds. Maybe all men had this weird untold understanding which made all the people around them feel like ignorant and made them realize how small they actually were as compared to the whole universe. How utterly small and unimportant. Was I okay?

"135 bhp, engine's a blast—" I tuned them out, I was not a 'car' person or maybe cars weren't a me thing.

"Claire?" my mom whispered. "Help me set dinner?"

I nodded and got up. I had to delay this somehow, because after they were done with cars, there was always the questioning, about family, future plans, trying to find out exactly what kind of a guy he was and if I wasn't mistaking my mom might just be reckless enough to ask him straight out if he was planning to marry me. I shuddered.

I dragged my feet, advantaging myself with the friction. I had to slow this down. But after two shifts of putting everything in place, everything was finished and unfortunately five minutes later everyone was seated in front of the dining table. I had faithfully secured a seat next to Killua; it was for emergencies, like if someone said something stupid, I could stuff food in his ears.

There was clinking of forks and tapping of plates. "Hey kid," said Mr. Domoto from my side. "Pass the salad?"

I gritted my teeth and glared at him as I handed him the salad bowl. "I think the food isn't according to your taste since we ran out of dog food," I muttered in a low tone.

He rolled his eyes.

"I hope you like Lasagna, Killua. Claire said you don't eat spicy," my mom said politely as she dug a spoon in her plate of mashed potatoes.

"Oh, I love it." Killua smirked at me for the fraction of a second.

There was another long silence, with food chewing, stuff passing and awkward sniffs.

"So, what about your family?" asked my dad trying to act casual and of course, failing. "You're from here?"

Killua cleared his throat. "Nagoya," he answered. "I'm from Nagoya. My parents run a family business," he said lightly apparently busy with his food.

I pursed my lips. If I remembered well, he had told me he was from a city in Gorteau named Aiden. I chewed slowly. We were going to have a talk later.

Slowly my mom started joining in the conversation asking him about his interests.

Currently everything was within the 'safe' boundaries and everyone seemed to be getting along. Mr. Domoto and Killua had resumed the conversation on cars, and then there was a small session with my nonna and then an awkward silence that definitely screamed 'pericolo'.

"So," said my mom apparently in the mood to chat. "Are you two, like, together?"

Killua shifted. I was petrified. Whatever was in my mouth was now stuck in my throat, I started coughing. God, I was choking.

Killua poured me a glass of water and patted my back. I washed the food down with the water; my eyes were wet from all the struggling for air. I shot my mom a threatening glare. "Did you have some mashed potatoes?" I asked Killua hysterically. "You should definitely have some, here," I started piling them on his plate before he could answer.

"I've had—" he began. "Wait, Claire. Hey—"

I lost it. My brain was no longer controlling my hands. The only function they knew was 'put mashed potatoes in his plate'

He grabbed my wrist. "Claire," he said boring his gaze into mine. "That's _enough_ mashed potatoes," he said it emphasizing what he actually meant, 'have you lost it?'

I laughed nervously and took a deep breath. From my side Mr. Domoto snorted. "If you wanna keep that mouth you better shut it," I cursed.

"I'm not the one acting like deranged jackass," he responded smugly.

I pursed my lips.

Dessert was disasterless enough and by the end of dinner my nonna had recounted all my embarrassing childhood stories to Killua, including the one in which I got stuck in an elevator for four hours; the three men had discussed every existent car model on the planet and Killua had been forbidden to address my mom and dad as 'ma'am' and 'sir'.

When it was late enough to be excused Killua glanced at his wrist watch. "I should get going," he said and I sighed out of relief.

"Now?" my mom said perplexed. "It's family game night, stay a little longer," she proposed excited.

My eyes widened. Family game night was crazy... period. Last time we had the neighbours call over to make sure someone hadn't died because of all the screaming that was going on.

"Well, why—" Killua began.

"No, wait, what?" I asked on the verge of making my eyes fall out with all the blinking I was doing. "No—no, no, no he can't stay for family game night." I laughed nervously. "Killua doesn't play games—it's _forbidden_ in his tribe," I blabbered. "He made me swear—that was his condition, no games or he's out. I mean—this is so insulting. No gaming—the world is ending—we should be respectful." I grabbed Killua's arm as he gaped at me and waved around like a retard. "Bye, bye."

Everyone gave me a puzzled look.

I shut the door behind me as we both got out and a cold gust of wind made me tremble.

"Well, that was something," Killua said as he disguised a chuckle as a cough.

I sighed. "Shut up, I get nervous."

He dug his hands in his pockets. "I'm not making it up this time," he said looking at me. "You look a lot like your father."

I grinned. "I know, everyone says that," I said shivering.

"Are you—?" he began.

"No, I'm not one of his distant relatives, they got me straight from the orphanage," I mumbled.

"Oh, actually I was gonna ask if you were cold."

"Oh," I said rubbing my forehead. "Well not really."

He put a cigarette in his mouth and flickered on his lighter.

I snatched it and bent it in two while glaring at him.

"What the hell?" he asked in disbelief.

"One inhale of this stuff, five percent increase in heartbeat and a sharp rise in blood pressure, most common side effects, nervous damage, a forty percent probability of causing lung and mouth cancer and scurvy," I said the words just as I had read them down from an article about smoking. "It's like poison."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm immune to poison," he murmured and then stopped still for a moment.

"Right," I said sarcastically. "And I just won an Oscar in there."

"It wasn't that bad," he encouraged.

"No?" I asked half-heartedly.

"Nah," he waved his hand. "It was way worse than 'bad'."

I scowled at him. "Idiot, I saved your butt back there."

He snorted. "Yeah, but you lost yours," he said grinning.

"Ungrateful jerk, you owe me."

"No way," he argued. "I got you out of P.E once, we're even."

"Aha, let's not count that; my tennis try out didn't go marvellously because of your _buahaha_ echoing throughout the gym, I hit my head with the racket; _I could have died_," I accused.

"Don't exaggerate, you tripped over your own feet," he sniggered. "Man, I thought that only happened on TV."

"I have a balance prob—" I groaned, "Nevermind."

"And what about the—" he wrapped his hands around his throat. "Choking problem? Comes with only incredibly hot guys around?"

I glared at him. "I was trying to get that smugly egoistic ass of yours out of trouble."

"That's a very Rambo-ish thing to do," he approved. "Always behind that sniper, ready to swipe in and save the day," he shut one of his eyes and pretended to take aim at something with his hands formed like a pistol. "Can you say this one line from Rambo? I could like record it and brag that I met Sylvester Stallone," he chuckled.

I stared at him in disbelief. "Fuck off, okay?" I rolled my eyes.

His eyes widened. "I swear to God, that's a Rambo dialogue."

I groaned. "Don't provoke me, I am fully capable of highly embarrassing comments, I might not be related to my mom but I'm still her daughter," I mumbled.

"Nope," he waved his hand. "I'd give that one a C."

"You grade conversations?"

"Not really, I just came up with the C thingy 'cause it was eventually gonna lead to the word 'choke' and then we could do the whole thing over again," he grinned.

I rolled my eyes. "Between us though," I said leaning closer to him and lowering my voice. "If I hadn't—" I paused to pick the right words."—blocked my wind pipe with food, what would— I mean, I don't know," I shrugged. "What would you have, like you know, said?" I tried to mask my curiosity. God, I was so lame.

I raised my gaze and met his as he moved his face closer. He leaned his forehead against mine. "I don't know. What do you think?" he whispered.

I closed my eyes inhaling the cold, humid air and the sweet scent of him. "Umm—" I mumbled. "You smell nice?" I said trying to change the subject.

"Sorry, I don't flirt," he said with a smile in his voice.

"Right, because winking at a woman who is a mother of two kids and making her blush seven shades of red is the demonstration of an innocent mother-son relationship, but that's good that you're a rookie at flirting, 'cause you know, I do—I'm an expert, like um—you know I'm a flirt expert," I blabbered. "For example when you say the word 'flirt' in general the first thing that comes to mind is, do you like bread?" I continuously blabbered.

I felt his breath on my face as he chuckled and I slightly parted my lips. "God, stop. You could seduce people with that line."

"I know," I chortled. "My prior victims were clueless."

I could feel him slowly closing the distance between us. This was going to be one the most salient nights of my life, in all that had happened and all that was yet to happen. I just had to keep my eyes closed and let him kiss me, maybe that way the hollow I had felt in my heart for so long might be filled. I wanted that.

"Claire, honey! You're gonna catch a cold!" my mom called from inside.

He threw his head back and I groaned. "This is just not gonna happen, is it?" I said through gritted teeth. "Well," I said sighing. "Have a safe trip home."

He smirked and lowered his face ever so slightly. I gave him a questioning glace and suddenly his lips touched my forehead. It felt like all the blood from my body was rushing to my head. "I will," he said breaking away. "Good night." He walked away and gave his usual side-wave. I watched him get into his car and drive away and just as his car disappeared into the darkness I touched my fingers to my forehead._ God, I am never washing my face again._

The door opened behind me and Mr. Domoto stepped out.

We both looked at each other for a while. "Listen," he said breaking the silence. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have told on you, about that boy, I was just looking out for you, you know? I have no right but—"

I hugged him just to shut him up. "You did great," I mumbled. When I pulled away he had a confused expression.

"Are you okay?" he grimaced.

"Never better," I almost sang. "Bye." I patted his head.

I went inside a bit drunkenly, feeling like the five year old who had too much cake and plopped down on the couch.

"What a gentleman," my mom approved.

I simply hummed, still a bit over-whelmed by what had happened.

"I like that boy," said my dad glancing at me.

I looked out the window. "Yeah, me too." Jesus, I think I was in love.

_As the lonely girl with the broken will starts to fade,_

_a soul with tenacity, prominence and life takes her place._


	10. Zenith

Hi guys! I'm super early and I am going to try to update sooner now since my exams are over. Now, this is officially the end of Claire's past (or at least her version of her past.) This is the longest chapter I have ever written and I hope you guys like it. I'm not going to spoil your fun and reveal what happens in the end... why are you still reading this? Dig in. P.S in case I might seem just slightly more somber or mature, I'm seventeen; let's face it that's never gonna happen. DIG IN.

Chapter: 10

* * *

**"Zenith."**

* * *

_"You made the right choice Claire."_

_The girl sighed because deep inside, she knew she didn't._

_(Continuation.)_

_There was rush. Louder than an ocean's wave and deeper than the sea. It was a very human moment, a selfish moment. A moment of doubt, a moment of reasoning and a moment of guilt. An instant in which the future was so prominent, yet so faded and so far. She could reach out for it all, she could grab it but it seemed stolen. It appeared as it was something that did not belong to her; nevertheless she wanted it so deeply. She shouldn't, but she would. Because she was selfish, she was self-centered. She didn't deserve it, but she would take it._

_The ten year old girl rushed. She grabbed everything in sight; it was a moment of great hesitation. She would snatch every object in view and stuff it in the small bag she was holding. Then suddenly, she would pause, thinking of how wrong she was being, but in the next instant she would convince herself that it was what was best for her and that that was all she needed to keep in mind. She gathered her belongings. She took out the money from inside her pillow case, the one she had been saving since she had planned her escape, but in that moment it all seemed so surreal. She grabbed the hair-brush, the one she felt emotionally attached for no reason, she took the book, the one that held memories of the man who had been the fascination of her childhood,; she collected the worthless objects, which were her most precious possessions._

_She hung the bag on her shoulder; she didn't want to wait a second more. She wanted a future, a life; she wanted a purpose and it seemed impossible as long as she was standing in this deserted and dark estate. Should she see her maid? Would she bid her farewell? Her instincts objected. She felt sinful, guilty. Her gait was hesitant. She held on the knob of the door for support. Her legs felt weak._

_"Api?" said a little high-pitched voice._

_She turned around in an instant. "Katie." Her name was just a whisper; it lacked the hate it was usually coated with. It was two syllables filled with pity and a sea of emotions she would never decipher. It was a soft whisper in a moment of forgetfulness._

_"Go away," she ordered._

_The little girl examined her. "Are you going somewhere?" she asked, pointing at her bag._

_"Go away Katie, leave me alone," she walked on. The sooner she would get this over with, the better._

_"Don't leave me alone," pleaded the little girl holding on to the hem of her shirt. "Big brother left me too."_

_She faced her. The little girl's eyes were glistening._

_The brown haired girl steeled herself. "Let go, Katie," she said, tearing her hand away. "Go away," she sped forward._

_"Api," said the little girl thickly and one could tell she was crying. "Api, I'm scared, don't leave me. Api—" she shrieked._

_"Katie, stop, you monster!" she shouted. "Go away!"_

_"Api, I'm sorry, I don't want to be alone, Api, please, please." The little girl grabbed her leg with both of her arms. Tears streaming down her flushed cheeks._

_Her heart was bursting, she was breaking. "Katie, let me go!" She struggled with her hands. "Let go, you're a monster! I hate you!" she spat the same old words._

_The little girl looked up, meeting her gaze. It was so penetrating, it seemed as if she had seen through her; it was so cold, she felt so cold. "Why?" the little girl asked; little did she know it was the last word she would ever hear from her._

_It was such a simple question and yet she had no answer, no statement even close to a reason and suddenly the world shifted. Her head was heavy, which seemed to be the weight of all her guilt. The pool of dark brown eyes was just a blur and her legs felt weak, before she could hold on to anything; she collapsed._

_It was not the pricking light that brought her back to consciousness, no, it could never be, there was never light in the mansion, it was a forbidden guest; it was however, the piercing screams and sobs that screened reality in front of her._

_She pushed herself up with her elbows, her head was pounding and she focused on the cries. Someone was crying, someone was screaming. She couldn't tune in to her words; they were so out of focus. She brought both of her hands to her face and pressed it. It was the rust and the salty smell that brought her back to reality. It was a reflex, an instinct as she pulled her palms back and examined the scarlet dried liquid that stained them. Her breath hitched._

_The sobs were louder and clearer now. She stood up, stumbling. Memories were flowing back in all at once. She touched her neck, her chest, and then her shoulders as she felt the strap of the small bag she had around them. Escape. The word was not only a memory but an order._

_She looked around. The dark and the black fused together. All she could see was a shadow. It was extended down on the floor. It was moving inward and outward; and was the source of the noise. She walked closer and the shadow split into two._

_"She's dead— she's gone," chanted the woman while rocking forward and backwards._

_"Ingrid?" asked the ten year old girl as she recognized the voice._

_The woman whimpered, she couldn't tell whether it was out of shock or of terror. The women faced the girl and her eyes were wide and red rimmed, she looked horrible. Her lips slightly parted, she put her arms around her crossed legs, shielding something. "Stay away— away, from me, don't touch her— away."_

_It was then that she noticed the sleeping little girl on her lap. For a second, she was fooled by the serenity on her face, until her gaze fell down to her chest; there was scarlet, there was red and she watched as the blood pooled down beside her. Where a mass of red and flesh lay; her heart._

_Her breath painfully rushed in and her heart stopped beating. "K—Katie?" she whispered as if, if she would say the words any louder, worse than what already was would come. "Katie," she reached out for her._

_"Katie," she choked, crawling forward. "No, no, no—Katie, look at me—look," she said, touching her palm to her cheek. "Katie, look—it's your Api. Katie, open your eyes—Ka—" her throat felt tight. "Katie!" she shrieked. "I'm never leaving you, I swear, just open your eyes!" her voice was thick and her face was wet. "Katie," she pleaded, holding her arm. "Look at me, I'm so sorry, I—I'm a bad sister—a horrible sister just please—don't leave me," she choked._

_"Don't touch her!" barked the woman, slapping her hand away._

_She merely met her gaze as words failed her._

_"Stay away!" she spat, and the words were so familiar. "Away, away you monster!"_

_Monster. The word clicked into place and the doubt vanished as soon as it came, but it was replaced by much, much worse. Dread. "M—monster?" she croaked, taking a step forward._

_"You're beast, a monster! Look what you did," she said, gesturing at the girl that appeared to be in deep slumber. "Stay away!" she warned._

_Her muscles locked and her bones felt hollow. With all the power she had left, she raised her shaking hands to her level of sight. They were stained in deep red blood and the rusty smell of it dominated it all."No," she whispered. Her legs felt weak and she dropped on her knees, her eyes stinging painfully._

_Monster. Was she—? Could she be—? Monster. She dragged herself back. What had she done, who was she? The question rang in her ears in a piercing manner. "No." Monster. Beast. Demon. The things she had always accused her sister of being, was it possible—? Could it be? That all along it was her? It was her. She was the monster._

_"No." She hated everyone and everything around her, she was a monster, no, she was worse; she was much, much worse. How could she have—how could she have done what she did? She was the girl who had nothing and blamed everything around her for her misery. Monster, it was her._

_"No," she said as she stumbled back. "You're lying. Katie—you—you're lying."_

_"You're a monster, that's what you are!" she screamed back._

_"No," she said as she dragged herself back until she hit the side of the wall. She slid herself up her lower lip trembling. She looked to her sides; the blood on her hands had stained all the white. Barely catching her breath and balance, she took a few steps away. Run. Her instinct told her. Run._

_And so, like the coward she was, she ran away from what she couldn't face or accept. She ran with the bitter and consuming word echoing through her ears. Monster. Monster. Monster._

_She was out the doors, out the boundaries that had held her captive for the past decade. The dirt and dust on her feet and the blood on her palms was far from enough to stop her. Monster. Monster. Monster._

_"No!" she screamed, her throat burning as it consumed what gave life to it. "No!" she bellowed as she stopped between the covers of the trees. "No—" she croaked in a dying whisper as she rubbed her stained hands on the dirt. "Katie, no—" what had she done. Who was she? She was so alone, so, so alone. "Luca—Katie, I'm sorry," she whimpered. "So sorry."_

_Her thoughts were muted as suddenly, there was a rustling behind her. Her neck snapped in the direction of its source. "Who's there?" she asked, raising her head. She was scared and it was terrifying, disgusting that nevertheless what she had done, she still valued her pathetic, meaningless life. The noise became clearer and faint footsteps could be heard. She stood with her back to a tree and secured her surroundings._

_A silhouette appeared until it materialized itself into reality and she was facing clearly the woman in front of her._

_Her lips slightly parted. "Y—Yui-san?" she asked as a confirmation._

_The woman didn't speak as she stepped forward, and the faint light of the moon revealed her emotionless face, an expression she had not once seen her wear. Her kind eyes and smile seemed to have drained away._

_The girl opened her mouth to question, but her words went into non-being as her gaze fell on the object in her hand; a dagger._

_She fell down to her knees as comprehension washed over her and the life from her body drained. Her will crumpled in that second, as it never had in ten years. She felt empty, drained, lifeless and she didn't dare meet her stare. This was right. It was what she deserved, she didn't have enough want to decipher what was the reason behind the action but she couldn't bring herself to think about it._

_"And when the hunter found Snow White in the forest, behind the tall Willow tree,"said the maid softly to the five year old girl. "He held his dagger ready to kill and obey the order that was given to him."_

_The pain was too much to take. It was so deep, so piercing. She closed her eyes. She had a million regrets, but she didn't see all of her past flash before her as people usually said they did when death was a second away. But her greatest regret; if she had only learned to love and not let the dark that surrounded her dwell within her, would she still be crumpled to the ground as she was now?_

_She saw the woman's hands shake fiercely as she walked closer._

_The girl shut her eyes tighter; she wondered if it would hurt to die. Katie would know. The seconds turned into minutes but nothing happened. "Do it," the girl ordered._

_There was a thud as metal fell to the ground._

_She opened her eyes and the woman was on her knees before her, tears streaming down her face. "I—can't. No." She met her gaze with a pleaded expression and took both of her hands. "Run."_

_She stood up with an unimaginable hurt that coursed deep in her veins. The brown-haired girl grabbed the abandoned blade and, gritting her teeth as hard as she could, struck it in the flesh of her shoulder._

_A pained scream escaped her lips before she could suppress it. She didn't know what led her to it; maybe it was as a compensation. She dropped the knife down, her arm throbbing with pain._

_"But when the huntsman reached close to Snow White, he took pity on her and set her free."_

_With nothing but an empty soul and a perspective full of misery and pain, she ran. She ran until time was nothing but a swirl behind her. She ran and ran. She was so cold, but she ran. The wind pricked and hurt, her legs were numb, but she ran and, as the humid ran through her hair, everything went into non-being._

_It was the light that pricked her eyes open. She felt a warm hand on her forehead. She threw her head back and opened her eyes._

_"It's okay," assured the red haired woman. "You're fine."_

_She looked around her. There were two other women beside her and she noticed that she was lying on a white sheeted bed. She wondered if she was dead._

_"Where am I?" she asked guarded._

_The three women exchanged confused looks. "Noda Angel of Mercy Children's Home."_

_She just kept staring._

_"One of our workers found you a few blocks away, unconscious."_

_She looked at her shoulder, it was neatly wrapped in bandages and the pain seemed to have faded._

_"Where did you come from?" asked one of the women._

_She met her gaze and the silence that followed settled as a permanent guest._

_And that was how most of the time went, they would all talk to her, but she would rarely answer back. They asked for her name and were confused when they mentioned a word that was not familiar to her, a surname. She wrote down Gaspardo from her old book and it seemed to be acceptable. They asked her where she came from but she wouldn't talk back so they wrote down the common story of the parent's death due to a car accident; she didn't mind, she wasn't even sure what parents were, she had read the word but it must have slipped. They took her to a room that was full of children that always stared at her; she didn't like it. She would curl up in a corner, holding tightly to her bag._

_Sometimes, children would talk to her, but she wouldn't answer and every night, her sister would visit her, it was her screams when she woke up from the nightmares that woke up almost half of the orphanage. Sometimes, children were even mean to her, but she wouldn't really talk back, she was afraid of what she might do if she got angry. She was terrified of herself._

_Then, after a few weeks she would be called to a room where she would have to meet strange people. They would ask her question but she wouldn't answer and they would glare at her. 'Adoption' was the word the red haired woman that called herself Ava mentioned; of course the girl had no idea what it meant._

_New people would come every week, sometimes even every day, but she would never see them twice, she could tell they didn't like her. After a few months, a light haired woman with a messy haired man by her side came. She would smile a lot and the man beside her would agree with everything she said. She didn't ask a lot of questions but she talked a lot. She told her what her and the man's name were, who was her husband. She said she loved children but didn't have any of her own. The girl never responded but nevertheless, both of them kept visiting her. They would bring her some good-tasting food which the woman had called 'chocoballs'. Sometimes, they would visit her more than once a day, the girl liked that. There came moments when she started waiting for them. She would come and tell her how her day went. The messy haired man rarely talked but he was nice._

_It was about a week later when a question took her by surprise. "Would you like to come home with us? Stay with us, be our daughter?"_

_Daughter. It was such a beautiful word. She was scared, carrying her dark and twisted past around with her, but she was also tired. She felt a warm feeling inside her when she nodded but it was nothing compared to the emotions she felt when she got in the moving thing with wheels they called a 'car' and rode with them towards what they called 'home', her past was like a dark trail behind her but she wanted to know what the future held; with a promise to herself, the darkness within her tied to the little humanity she had, would remain sealed, forever._

* * *

There are different types of 'days'. My random list ranged from one extreme to the other. There were those days when you chewed off the straw from your drink out of frustration when someone you greatly disliked talked for a really long time. I won't say any names. Nora.

There were those days when you woke up feeling like you got out of the cocoon in between metamorphosis and ended up with one wing and half a caterpillar body.

There were days when you felt like poking random strangers on the side-walk and freaking them out by doing your best 'Carlito' impression, but you realized you were too chicken for that and just went back to being a nobody.

And then, there were days when you felt the wind which had traveled a thousand miles through fresh green meadows, the one which probably blew some lady's fancy hat away, the one which carried a thousand untold stories and secrets, rush through your hair on your way to school and assured you that today was going to be a good day. Believe it or not, that day was today; which seemed kind of impossible since it was raining horribly outside, I had forgotten my umbrella at home and it was Monday; Monday of the last week of September, which meant—

"The homecoming dance!" squeaked the school's news anchor's voice through the hall speakers. "This Saturday, get yourselves ready for a Paris themed party!" she announced in the most dramatic voice anyone could manage. "Now remember, you can vote for your homecoming queen and king on the school's website! Your nominees have already been selected and are currently being crowned their—"

I tuned the high-pitched voice out as I stuffed a headphone on my ear while chewing slowly on a croissant.

Homecoming was also not a 'me' thing. I was a social outcast and, let's face it, for a girl who had been to only one party in her life; Miki Shizuka's birthday party, only because her mother had forced her to invite all her classmates back in the fifth grade and unfortunately, as usual, I had been harassed, returning home with cake in places cake should never be; homecoming was definitely not a me thing.

I was the girl who hid her face with a book while walking through the halls, as not to be spotted by Naomi, I was a nerd, a goofball who had even tried to search herself on Google Earth. Me and homecoming repelled each other; hard.

Suddenly, there was a loud blasting sound in the background of the track I was playing. Oh, they had found another one of the nominees and they were always crowned in the same way; horns and sparkles. Urgh. I felt pity for them. Maybe nerdy was a lot better than popular glitter shit.

I went back to stuffing the croissant in my mouth and examining the hall. Approximately about a minute later, a very raged looking Killua, with colour in his silvery hair, appeared out of nowhere with what looked like a shiny crown in his hand. His teeth were gritted and he looked like he could kill.

Killua was nominated for Homecoming King, how did I not see that coming? A giggle involuntarily escaped my mouth just before I clasped my hand over it.

"This," he emphasized. "Is unforgivable," he said through clenched teeth.

I picked out something round and fuzzy from his hair. "Ooh, confetti," I mused, examining the colourful piece. "That's a bonus."

He glared at me.

I raised one hand in surrender. "Sorry, croissant?" I offered.

He ignored me. "I am going to get this stuff out of my hair; I'll see you outside in five."

"I have a shift at the library," I informed him.

"Then I'll see you there."

I bowed. "Your highness."

"I'm warning you," he said, scowling.

I snorted and walked away, provoking him was just too tempting. I absentmindedly shuffled through my iPod when someone called me from behind. I turned around to see a tired and nervous looking Killua's cousin rushing over to me.

"Claire," he said a bit hysterically.

"Hey— Gon," I said, recalling his name. "What's up?"

"How are you?" he asked like my health was one of his top-priorities.

"Um— I'm— swell, how— how are you?" I asked, confused.

"I'm— yes— I'm fine," he looked around, agitated, and then sighed. "I— need a favour," he said, sounding like a cornered kitty.

"Okay," I said slowly. "Just don't pee in your pants."

He blushed and stared at his feet for about two minutes without saying a word. I considered encouraging him to speak but I was a bit freaked out myself. "I— I have a calculus test tomorrow, if you could— help me study?" he asked running a hand through his spiky hair. "It's just," he stuttered. "Killua hates when I don't get stuff and he's very— short tempered," he admitted. "And you don't have to if you don't want to."

I smiled at him and by the way he was shifting his legs, I doubted he had taken my advice of not wetting his pants. "Sure, just come over to my place this afternoon, Killua knows the address."

His eyes widened as if I had just handed him a million dollar cheque and he grinned. "Thank you!" he all but shouted and extended his arms for a hug but then stopped himself and concluded with just shaking one of my hands in both of his.

"No— no problem," I mumbled as I sped forward and stuffed the ipod in my pocket. Life seemed exaggerated, I felt social, which was scary. Suddenly, my train of thought broke as I bumped into someone and by the stinging deepness of the person's perfume, I could tell exactly who it was.

"Uh, you touched me," Naomi whined as she made the most disgusted face she could manage. "Get out of my way."

I rolled my eyes. I had no idea what made me say what I blurted out next. "I don't have time for your drama today, and just to be clear _you're _in my way," I said leveling my head with hers, she was a god inch shorter than me.

Her eyes widened and her mouth slightly opened. Yes, we were all surprised. "Who the hell—" she began.

"You heard her," said a masculine voice from behind. "You're in her way." Killua walked to my side, his hair restored to its original form.

Naomi's mouth was held in a confused and irritated way. She studied his face carefully and nodded and walked away.

I blinked a few times to process what exactly had happened as I looked between Killua and Naomi's retreating figure.

"See," said Killua, securing my attention. "And you complain when I call you Rambo, you could start a campaign for women potential." He walked with his hands crossed behind his neck.

I shrugged and rolled my eyes. "Don't you have more important things to worry about," I asked as I gave him a skeptical look. "Like your kingdom?"

He ignored me. "So, you two have a family feud or something? Or one of those 'these heels are mine, at the mall' fights?"

I grimaced at him. "Please stop trying to understand girls," I pleaded.

"Side-tracking again," he informed.

I sighed. "This has been going on since the fifth grade," I admitted. "The school play— she had a big singing number and I—" I paused. "I sort of threw up right at the start and sort of— got the whole thing cancelled." I laughed in a breathless and awkward way to mask my embarrassment. "She hates me since then and this—" I said gesturing in front of me. "—goes on every day," I emphasized. "Although this is the first time I ever answered back. I think— I think I'm turning into a thug."

He stared at me blankly for a moment and then chuckled. "A thug?" he asked laughing.

"Yeah, like I think it's because of you," I accused. "I mean— you talk and I talk back to you and now I think I'm starting to talk back to everyone. Like— a thug," I concluded.

"You're welcome." he smirked. "For the spectacular boost in capacity," he pretended to bow.

I rolled my eyes. "Idiot."

"You know what this reminds me of?" he asked, deep in thought.

"No," I murmured as we walked in the library, which was empty. The sky was an ominous grey and rain drops were splattering ferociously on the window glass. The weather was getting uglier by the second.

"Sequential hermaphrodites," he said.

I gave him the weirdest look I could manage. "Yay," I mumbled. "You finally paid attention in Biology today. Cheers. Wanna bump fists?" I asked sarcastically.

He rolled his eyes as he took his usual place on the table. "I'm comparing situations," he clarified. "A fish that changes gender with the temperature of water and your transition into a— thug," he added, smirking.

I grabbed a book from the table and read its label. "So, basically," I said, raising my eyebrows. "I'm supposed to be this fish?"

"Hm," he nodded.

"And I shifted from a certain temperature of water," I blabbered, the clattering of the rain in the background got louder.

"Yeah," he approved.

"Say cold to hot and— wait a minute, you're supposed to be the water aren't you?" I asked giving him a skeptical look.

He leaned his chin on his palm, smirking. "You're smarter than you look."

I narrowed my eyes at him, placing the book in the shelf. "This is very unhealthy to say, but I'm impressed," I admitted. "Your self-love is so concentrated it gives your mind the ability to be this far-sighted. I mean, a normal person couldn't have predicted already that a simple conversation on fish would have concluded in saying that they're hot."

"Exactly," he agreed. "No normal person could be this hot either."

I rolled my eyes. "So I'm this fish," I returned to the subject. "Wait a minute," I paused. "How did you know for sure that I'd say cold to hot? I could have said hot to cold." I asked confused.

"That was a guess, anyhow you're very predictable," he informed.

I narrowed my eyes again. "So, yeah. Fish goes from cold to hot... actually, the right word would be warm, again it's impossible to know exactly what word I would have used," I said, perplexed.

"Like I said, naive, predictable," he said, bored.

I shrugged. "Okay, so the fish changes gender with the temperature of water, so here the gender is supposed be representing potential. Yeah, so it's probably male to female," I said at an attempt at provoking him but he just kept staring at me with the same bored look. "Aren't you gonna argue on how that should be reversed because alpha males like you are proud of their gender and definitely think males have more potential?" I asked. There was rumble of clouds.

He raised a silver eyebrow. "Actually, no. I never have under estimated any of the two genders. Now since you're just gonna end this by rolling your eyes, a scoff, a huff or a sigh I'd say we move on to another subject," he suggested. "Like world peace and I'd add more interest in the conversation if I said, I'm a peaceful man, peace is my middle name or just peace in general could be described as one of my major qualities."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "You and peaceful? Seriously? I mean I wouldn't be surprised if the second world war started because Hitler was staring at a candy bar you were eating," I said as I picked up another set of books.

"Reckless, actually more like stupid," he said. "Nevertheless, I'll take that as a compliment. Hitler was one of a kind, I like the thought of being the motivation behind one of his greatest accomplishments— notorious accomplishments," he corrected.

I rolled my eyes. "Ah, too bad you were born in the wrong era."

"How would you know?" he asked. "I might be older than I look."

"You told me you were seventeen," I reminded him. "Although your hair colour does raise doubts from time to time," I joked.

"I could be lying," he proposed and his expression seemed serious enough.

"No—you're not," I said slowly.

"What makes you so sure of that?" he said, boring his gaze into mine.

"I—I, you," his gaze was so penetrating. I shrugged trying to act casual. "You look like the kind of person that would never lie, you know, like— the kind of guy who hates liars or something like that." Suddenly one of the windows was pushed open by the wind and the wild rain was splashing inside, I hurriedly shut didn't answer, he just kept staring at me and his expression was unreadable.

"So," I said resuming the conversation. "Are we talking about gender-changing fish, world peace, Hitler or lies?" I asked trying to lighten the mood.

He exhaled and pursed his lips pensively. "What about a gender-changing peaceful fish that lies a lot and is called Hitler?" he asked.

I pursed my lips. "You do realize this is one of the weirdest conversations we've had, right?" I asked, leaning against the shelf.

He dug a hand in his pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar. "We've talked about the seductive qualities of bread, I wouldn't rank this as the weirdest," he split the bar in two and handed me a piece.

"Thanks." I took a bite. It was peculiar, seeing him share seemed as likely as picturing an elephant doing back-flips. "That wasn't weird; it was unusual, like you."

"Really?" he asked. "What exactly is unusual about me?" he demanded swallowing the whole thing down.

I examined him. "You keep your hands in your pockets all the time," I said.

"You let your sleeves lose," he said pointing at my hands which were half covered in my sweater.

"You eat an impossible amount of chocolate."

"You've named your hair-brush," he answered back.

"You have silver hair."

"You can trip over the flattest of surfaces."

"You can climb through a two storey house window," I pressed.

"You talk in your sleep," he said smugly.

"You can appear out of—" I stopped. "How— how do you know that?" I asked pausing.

He stared blankly at me. "You do?" he asked fakely smirking. "Lucky guess," he shrugged.

"No," I shook my head. "That was not just a guess," I said looking deep in his eyes.

He didn't answer.

And suddenly his words from the other night popped in my mind when he told my dad he was from Nagoya. "And where exactly are you from? Because you seem to have double standards in answering questions with variation of individuals," I accused.

At once there was a huge roar of lightening and Killua's whole body seemed to glow white, until there was nothing but black around me. My breath was stuck in my throat, was I blind? "Killua?" I mumbled lowly.

"Boo," said a voice from my side and I screamed the life out of me.

"Shh, it's me," said Killua, holding one of my arms as he raised the glowing screen of his phone in front of me.

"You—" I gritted my teeth. "What— what the hell just happened?" I almost shouted.

"The power went off," he informed me.

I tried to calm myself.

"Unfortunately," he said walking me in some direction. "I didn't bring the car today, we're gonna have to walk through that beast."

I looked to my sides; we were probably in the hall. Today was ugly.

"Do you have an umbrella?" he asked.

"No, I forgot it," I said thinking of my own stupidity.

"Stay here," he said. "I'll go see if there's one in the gym."

I grabbed his arm at the speed of light. Standing alone in this dark hallway? My brain would probably come up with a spin-off to paranormal activity 5. "No," I said instinctively. "I'm going with you."

His face, which was visible from the faint glow of his cell's screen, showed a perplexed expression which then split into a smirk and he shrugged as he started walking.

"You're scared of the dark," said Killua, not as a question but as a confirmation.

"I'm not, shut up," I mumbled. "You are." _You're so pathetic Claire. _Tell me something I don't know.

He snorted but suddenly his expression turned serious and he stopped. "What was that?" he asked in a low tone.

I held my breath tightening my grip on his arm. "What was what?" I whispered terrified.

He chuckled.

I stepped on his foot. "Jerk."

"Ouch," he murmured.

There was a complete silence except our steps, which echoed throughout the empty halls. These were definitely the signs showed in over-rated horror movies. I wanted to at least live until I was graduated.

"Killua?" I asked in a low tone.

"Hm?" he answered lazily.

"Have you ever thought about how you're gonna die?"

"Have you?" he dodged my question with his own.

"I like to think that I'll die in the place of someone I love."

"Well, I'll probably die of mephobia," he said pensively.

"Mephobia?" I asked confused.

"You know, the fear of being so awesome that the human race can't handle it and everyone dies."

I rolled my eyes. "You're so full of yourself."

Gladly, after that I had damaged Killua's foot enough that he was out of pranks, to my satisfaction we found an umbrella in the gym and finally we made it out of the school where the rain was wild and there was a freezing breeze.

He thrust the black umbrella open and we both stepped out, under it, into the rain. I glanced one last time at the school. The dark and creepy building with the power off seemed like a spooky haunted house. I slightly shivered and dug my hands in my pockets.

The weather was going crazy today. I just hoped it wouldn't snow; frozen fluff getting in your shoes, until it melted and turned your toes blue. Ugh. Hideous.

"You're getting that look again," he murmured.

I looked at him. "What? What look?"

He passed a hand through his hair, like he was posing for a hair gel commercial. "You know," he said, smirking. "The look you got just before you started choking the other day, you should have seen it, it was priceless," he chuckled.

"Ha ha," I said, gritting my teeth. Wishing more than anything else that I would have enough force to punch the nearest wall without damaging my knuckles. "Hilarious, too bad you couldn't take a picture." Memories of the weekend were unpleasantly embarrassing.

"Oh, I will," he said amused, "Next time."

His words took me by surprise. "Next time?" It was still hard for me to decipher exactly what our relationship was. The concept was hard to grasp. We certainly weren't 'just friends', sure nothing had really happened between us, but that didn't mean we never tried. We did, a million times maybe, but somehow, the universe always managed to come up with an interruption.

Still, in all that weirdly entangled mess, I had no idea what I wanted. Maybe I did know what I wanted and was scared of accepting it because I didn't know what he wanted. Or maybe I knew that I knew what he wanted, but I just wouldn't let it sink in because I doubted what I wanted. Or maybe I was just being my idiotic self by having a senseless conversation with myself in my head, which was a sign of poor mental health. Definitely the last one.

"Yeah," he said casually.

His direct answers were annoying me. I didn't know whether I wanted him to keep on expressing signs about moving forward, or just taking a break. Maybe it was because too much thinking was definitely making me paranoid. I simply scoffed, how professional could I get? "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

"Actually I do," he responded calmly.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. I had never dated. I had never even made eye-contact with a boy before unless absolutely necessary, and besides, everyone avoided me, so, I had simply no standards to compare Killua's behaviour with. Maybe, when people wanted to start getting involved in a relationship, they ought to be straight-forward punks with the tranquility of a hippie. Or again, maybe I was just being a psychotic idiot. "Okay," I answered simply while slowing my pace. "Has it occurred to you that... I don't know," I said shrugging, "That you might be being careless or I don't know, rushing into decisions? I mean, I should let you know, if you have failed to see it, that you and I," I said, moving my hand between the two of us, "Are complete opposites."

"Opposites attract each other," he answered simply while smirking.

I was boiling. I stopped walking and stared at him in complete disbelief. "Y-you're smirking? I mean I'm being serious here," I said, trying to keep my voice composed.

He halted and took a few steps back until he was in front of me."I know," he shrugged. "I'm being serious too," he said, holding back a devilish grin.

My eyes popped wide open. "Okay," I said, taking a deep breath, "Alright. See, Killua," I said, trying to sound diplomatic, "You are a boy— and I'm a girl, we're opposite sexes, I mean we are bound to be attracted to each other. But, you know, sometimes, people don't actually have real feelings, they're just drawn to each other because of this—thing that just happens to be and that's where mistakes originate," I knew I was blabbering, but I just couldn't help myself. "Don't get me wrong," I added and took a deep breath, "It's just that you don't have any damn reason to like me because I'm completely ordinary and that's, well... you know…"

He snorted. "Sorry— sorry," he said, looking away. I could tell my little 'lecture' was fairly pathetic. He rubbed his forehead and looked at me, a muscle in his jaw twitched, which made me realize he was using an amount of huge effort to try not to howl with laughter at me right now. He cleared his throat. "See, Claire I'm a seventeen year old male— man," he added, "I think," he paused, "I think, I can tell whether a feeling is coming from my gut or my balls."

I looked down. If I had ever felt stupid in any moment of my life before this one, it felt like nothing compared to now.

"I do like you," he said softly. "What's there not to like?"

I bit my lip deep. I felt like crying. I was both touched and embarrassed. I opened my mouth to speak and I knew I was about to say idiotic stuff. "No, I mean—really. I-I don't what sort of impression I've left on you, but trust me— I'm not that-I mean you— don't know me. I'm that girl who— I wake up in the morning with a million doubts running around my head, I stutter repeatedly in a simple line, I choke on my own words, I-I trip at least ten times a day, I can't go in crowded places because I think people stare at me. I haven't once visited the school cafeteria out of the same fear, I start crying over nonsense, I mean— I named my hair-brush! I still add stuff by counting on my fingers, I can manage to get myself lost in a two-way street, I can't control my breathing at times when I'm nervous, and— and clumsiness practically owns me—I-I can set a house on fire just by trying to water plants and-and I'm scared to death of the dark, and I don't keep my phone with me sometimes, when I'm alone, because I think it's literally breathing and I try to mask it all by acting like I don't care but, I just end up making a bigger fool of myself and..." I babbled, trying to ignore a huge lump in my throat.

"Claire—"

"—and I'm terrified of cats and—"

"—Claire," he said gazing at me.

"—boys like you don't like girls like me—"

"—Claire."

"Yeah?" I asked, almost breathless. He saying my name still gave me butterflies.

"Shut up," he said, both his hands moving behind my back and pulling me closer until his lips were crashing against mine.

If I had thought I had actually ever felt something in my life, I was damn wrong. He was everywhere, there wasn't anywhere I couldn't feel his skin. There was a loud thud behind us, and in the next moment, water was dripping all over us as the umbrella collapsed.

Our lips were moving in perfect sync. My heartbeat was embarrassingly loud, but I didn't care; nothing mattered right now. My blood was rushing with an abnormal speed throughout my veins.

It could have been an eternity in which his chocolate tasting lips moved with mine, but I didn't want it to stop. Not now, not ever. I felt wild. My shaking hands moved behind his head and grasped his wet hair. After a few seconds, our lips parted and he moved his down to my throat, tracing up and down. My grip at his hair tightened and my knees were feeling weak. He caught my trembling form just in time, and I melted against him.

Every worry, every problem seemed stupid. I would laugh at myself for all my insecurities right now if I wasn't so out of breath. My shaky exhales materialized into the misty rain and took off; I was soaked thoroughly. But there, in his arms with my pulse louder than a sledgehammer, I didn't know whether I could ever come up with a better definition for the word perfection. It was as if my life had reached its zenith, heaven seemed over-rated. I was good where I was.

_Where the shadows are twisted and there's nothing but the dark, _

_the soul goes deep, there in the obscure, there's a spark._


	11. Ebullient

Yeah... so I'm just gonna leave this here so you guys can read it and review, which I'm sure you will, right? Huh, let's face it, I can not let you guys read anything without an annoying author's note. Well, I wanna thank you all for the reviews and my beta-readers for always being super awesome. I was planning on updating twice last month but a lot of things happened, to summarize it I got sick and also I had to study for a college test and yay! I'm so excited tomorrow's my first day in college. Freaaakinggg out. Anyway, you guys should dig in 'cause I'm not gonna shut up anytime soon, run! Now! I can't hold myself off for long.

Chapter: 11

* * *

**"Ebullient."**

* * *

_Meeting someone for the first time can't exactly be described as the beginning of a story. Actually, the story begins when that person starts having a meaningful impact on your life. Based on that, I can't really say when our story began or how it ended; to be honest, I'm not really sure it ever ended. As I had once told him, we were complete opposites. I realize now that I couldn't have said it any better; following that principle we were bound to be attracted to each other and even though we had to fall apart at some point, we couldn't defy the laws of physics for long._

_I saw it in his eyes, the moment he walked away; that even though he'd disguised it as a coincidence, we would meet again and that would be where our story would begin and resume at the same time._

_So, our story isn't exactly about a boy and a girl liking each other and walking into the sunset with a happy ending—no way. Our story is about pain, about loss, about risk, about acceptance, about heartbreak, about facing the impossible and a whole load of other shit that'll probably drive you crazy. But let me give you a hint, if I had to repeat this crazy ride that gave you goose bumps a hundred times, as insane as that sounds, I'd do it._

* * *

I brought my dripped hand to the door and retracted it after three quick raps. Today, I had discovered that the weather had a mind of its own and when it decided to fuck people, well, it'd do it and, once it was done, it was as sunny as nothing ever happened; except that there were two completely soaked people and a catastrophically wet town to provide the proof for it. When I said I had forgotten my umbrella home, did I mention I left my fucking keys too?

The door opened after a few minutes. "Claire, honey, I've been trying to reach your phone for—" My mom's mouth hung open. "What— how? Wha—" she babbled as words failed her.

I pursed my lips and attempted to smile as I turned to a thoroughly dripping Killua, with his wet silver strands covering parts of his face, if this was how he looked, I dreaded just the thought of my own state. We needed telepathy right now to decide who was going to lie. Just one look from him, and I knew it was going to be me.

I opened my mouth to speak, but she beat me to the chase.

"Just— just get in." It was very rare that my mom lost her temper but when she did…

"Mom I—" I tried to explain.

"NOW!" she bellowed and then turned to Killua. "Killua, honey you too."

I gave Killua a skeptical look and he slightly smirked. Life was smooth, with an extra o.

We both walked inside, water still dripping from us.

She pointed in the direction of the lounge.

Once we were both seated and she had her arms crossed, standing in front of me and my nonna was in the background to spectate, she glared at me. "What. Happened." The words were slow and terrifying.

I took a deep breath. "I forgot my umbrella," I mumbled.

She pointed at the one Killua had just left near the door.

I cleared my throat. "I forgot my umbrella," I repeated. "And tried to reach here in a run," I said as I looked at Killua for approval but he was just staring at his feet. "Luckily," I emphasized the word carefully. "Killua caught up with me halfway with that," I said pointing at the abandoned umbrella.

"Well that doesn't explain how he got wet, now does it?" she asked, boring her gaze deep into mine. I knew she knew I was lying. She gave me 'the look' which said 'you and I are going to have a talk later.'

She walked out of the room. "This is— absolutely reckless!" She reappeared with two neatly folded towels after a few seconds. "Here you go Killua honey." She smiled at him as she handed it. "Seventeen— Se-ven-teen," she broke down the word while handing me mine. "A young lady, who goes to high school, tries to run through a storm. Real smart. You just—" she paused and took a deep breath to calm herself. "Where's your phone? Do you know how many times I've been trying to call you?"

"Battery died," I mumbled looking away. I wondered when my embarrassment would go numb; it had already reached the hundred mark.

"Real mature Claire, I'm impressed," she said sarcastically. "Not you Killua, honey," she assured him. "You— you could've—" she paused to find the right word. "Drowned,"she said the word like it was cursed, returning her attention to me.

I raised my gaze to meet hers. "People can't drown in rain mom," I muttered, and from my side Killua coughed.

"People," she said, pressing at the 'L'. "Drown."

I looked around. My nonna and Killua looked away. "Al— alright. I'm— sorry," I forced the words out.

She sighed and I knew the storm was over. "Honey just—" she said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Be careful, please," she added.

I twiddled with my fingers.

"Claire, go change; your clothes are drenched. Killua, love, I think Hachiro's clothes are about your size," said my mom as she and my nonna both walked out of the room. Killua was biting his lip and I smacked him as hard as I could.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Not a word," I threatened.

We both dried ourselves with the towels and changed, and after a few minutes, my mom appeared with a hair-dryer and handed it to me.

"I'll get you something hot to drink," she said. "Killua, love, do like hot chocolate?" she asked sweetly and Killua nodded lightly.

I got up and plugged in the hair-dryer as soon as she went away. "Come." I gestured to him. "We'll do yours first, it's, um, short—er," I added.

He seated himself in front of me as he fiddled with the hems of my dad's shirt, which was about a size bigger than his previous clothing. I had to admit, he looked cute in over-sized clothes. "Critic," he accused.

I rolled my eyes as I ran my fingers through his soft strands. "How so?" I asked as I turned it on. I could feel its heat on my fingertips.

"You're criticizing my hair, I've already cut more than an inch of it for you, what else do you want?" he asked.

I sighed. "What I was trying to say is that it's not as short as other boys; doesn't mean it doesn't look sexy," I confessed.

He smirked and opened his mouth to brag just when my mom appeared and placed two cups of hot cocoa on the table.

"Lunch is in the kitchen," she announced.

I pinched Killua before he could decline staying for lunch because I knew he was about to and he raised his eyebrow in question. I just shook my head.

"Now you two—" her words were interrupted by the ringing of her cell phone. She pulled it out of her pocket and read the caller's ID. "I really have to take this, you'll be fine?"

We both nodded and she walked out.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, grabbing one of the cups and taking a sip.

"Don't ever refuse to her when she's mad," I warned him as I brushed his hair with my fingers, it smelled so nice. "She's really stubborn," I said letting my hair down as I removed my catcher. "She'll get it done, even if it's the last thing she does." I carefully dried the tips of my hair.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "I like her," he confessed. "She makes really good cocoa," he said pointing at his cup.

I smiled and rolled my eyes as I unplugged the hair dryer. I gulped the whole drink down in three huge sips as I peeked at the kitchen. "How about you go to my room?" I proposed. "I'll bring lunch there." This had nothing to do with the fact that my nonna was in the kitchen. Nope. Killua had heard enough of my childhood stories.

He shrugged and walked towards the stairs. I set the food on the tray under the watchful eye of my nonna. Something told me that both these women knew, and it was scary how penetrating a woman's all knowing gaze could be.

"You eat pasta right?" I asked Killua as I entered my room and set the tray on the table.

He just took one of the plates from the tray and seated himself on the chair near my desk. I crossed my legs as I plopped down on the bed and swallowed a mouthful of food.

He poked the thing a few times with his fork until he decided to taste it; something from his expression told me he liked it.

There was an awkward silence, in which I tried to have a conversation with him in my head about what happened a few hours ago. Finally, I cleared my throat and caught his attention. "So um—" I said trying to sound casual. "You—you wanna talk about it?"

He glanced at me. "Talk about what?" he asked, uninterested.

I stared at him in disbelief and paused for a moment. "You kissed me," I informed him.

"I know, I was there," he answered.

My mouth opened slightly. I didn't know whether I wanted to strangle him or myself. "I— You," I tried to speak. "Nevermind," I concluded. He was such an idiot.

He looked at me. "I don't get you girls," he admitted. "Why do you have to obstinately complicate things?"

I glared at him. "Well, I don't get you guys. Why do you take serious stuff so lightly?" I asked irritated.

He groaned. "Just—God, what do you want me to say?" he asked, annoyed.

"Why did you kiss me?" I asked him, my voice slightly louder.

"You talked for a really long time. I kissed you to shut you up."

My mouth hung open as words failed me. "Oh—oh. Wow. That's— oh my God. So basically, you kiss everyone you wanna shut up? Wow. I mean— I'm speechless," I concluded.

"Will you please shut up?" he begged.

"Why don't you make me?" I answered back in an instant.

We both just stared at each other until his usual smirk broke on his face. "You liked that didn't you?" he asked smugly.

"What?" I asked.

"You really liked that," he bragged. "That's why you're doing this whole drama. Seriously, you girls..." he said, shaking his head.

"What?" I scowled at him. "You're an asshole, you know that?" I said digging my fork hard.

"Humour me," he said, resting his chin on his palm. "But out of the two of us, who's being the dramatic asshole right now?" he asked.

"You know what?" I said, gritting my teeth. "I don't even wanna have this conversation anymore."

"But I do," he answered.

"Go to hell," I said, chewing slowly.

"See?" he asked triumphantly. "There. You girls try to get things complicated on purpose and when they do, you complain about it."

I ignored him and concentrated on my food.

"You're mad," he stated.

"No, I'm delighted actually," I said sarcastically.

"What if I said let's pretend this never happened?" he suggested.

"I'd punch you."

"What if I asked for your number?"

"I'd punch you," I repeated. "And then I'd give it to you," I added.

"Good," he said pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and throwing it at me.

"Yeah," I said, entering the digits.

"Cool," he shrugged as I tossed it back.

"Fine," I pressed.

"Alright," he added, clearing his plate.

"Whatever," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Okay," he said, gazing at me.

"Seriously now?" I asked, giving him a skeptical look. "Are we really gonna compete on who gets the last word?"

"Of course not," he said. "Because we both know I'm the one who's going to win." He shrugged.

"Idiot," I said.

"Psychopath."

"Loser," I muttered.

"Jackass."

I glared at him. "Asshole," I interjected. "And I got the last word!" I said stuffing my fingers in my ears. "Lalalalalala," I blabbered. "I can't hear you."

He rolled his eyes at me. "You can't say 'lala' forever," he informed. "But I can," he said as he imitated me.

Suddenly the door opened and his cousin appeared, who was apparently freaked out by the scene before him. We all exchanged perplexed looks.

"What are you doing here?" Killua asked him, surprised.

He scratched the back of his neck. "I—"

"Oh my God," I said as I face palmed. "I'm so sorry Gon," I said as I remembered. "I forgot about your test—how, how did you find my house?" I asked, confused.

He pulled out a scrap of paper from his pocket on which my address was stated in my clumsy hand writing. "I found this in Killua's room," he admitted.

Killua glared at him. "What test?" he asked.

"Wait," I said turning to Killua. "You kept this?" I said indicating at the piece of paper. "From a month ago?"

"That was—" he justified. "What test?" he asked, reverting his attention to Gon.

Gon looked at me for backup. I got up from the bed and placed my plate on the table. "Gon and I are studying together," I explained.

"Why?" he asked, looking, repeatedly, between the two of us.

"How does that concern you?" I asked as I patted my bed to invite Gon to sit.

Killua just speechlessly glared at me.

Gon gave me an apologetic smile, which assured me that the afternoon was not going to be easy.

I shook my head. "_f_," I said calmly. "Gon,_ f_. We've already found x."

He bit the back of his pencil and began scribbling.

"Not like that you idiot, said Killua, gritting his teeth. "What part of 'f' do you not get?" he asked exasperated. "f," he repeated. "Fuck."

I scowled at him and pointed at the bed. "Go."

"What—" he began.

"Nobody asked for your help, he's doing great, even without your awesome encouragements," I said sarcastically.

"Tch." He shrugged and walked to the bed.

"Now Gon, listen," I said breathing deeply. "All you have to do is arrange d and x to find the frequency."

He looked at me and shook his head. "I don't get this," he admitted. "I suck," he exhaled.

"You do not s—" I began.

Killua coughed loudly from behind. "Kick me if he's done by midnight."

I gritted my teeth and threw the pencil in my hand right at him.

He caught it as smoothly as if he was expecting it and smirked.

"That's it," I said, getting up and walking to him. "Get out." I grabbed his arm and pulled him up with all the breath that I had and I could tell he wasn't even trying to hold back. "All you've been doing since the past hour is distract him," I said as I lead him to the door. "Why don't you go and spend some quality time with my family, huh? Your divine presence has already blessed us enough." I shut the door to his face and took a deep breath. "Now," I said turning to Gon. "Where were we?" It wasn't a real question; we were still where we started.

A very obvious piece of information, which I had acquired today, was that Gon had an incredibly thick skull in which things hardly ever sank in. Repeating the same thing five times was equivalent to once for him, but at least the guy was trying and the guilt on his face put my temper to shame and I had to admit, without Killua around he was doing much better.

In his surprisingly deep determination, he had already snapped three pencils while concentrating. There were groans, deep calming breaths, words of encouragement and motivational speaking from my part while he mostly nodded and scratched his head. After about fifteen whole circuits of repeating the same things, a miracle happened.

"Oh. My. God," I breathed, covering my face with my hand as I examined his sheets. "Right answer!" I screamed. "Damn, right answer!" I felt like crying.

Gon's face split into a holy grin and he caught me in a bone crunching hug. We both jumped around the room for a few minutes, caught up in the excitement.

The rest proceeded, not very easily, but a lot better than before, and finally just when I felt like I would throw up on the calculus text book, we were officially done.

It was nearly eight o' clock when Gon and I walked downstairs where Killua was apparently busy talking to my mom and my nonna. I didn't even want think about the topic of their conversation but suspiciously my mom's face was glowing like a neon tomato, which I wasn't even sure was a thing.

"You're done?" Killua asked, raising his eyebrows as he spotted us.

We both nodded smugly like Batman and Robin, tutoring Gon was way harder than saving Manhattan.

After politely declining my mom's request to stay for dinner both the boys walked out and I followed. The fresh air felt amazing after a tiring afternoon or day as for that matter.

I took a very deep breath and in one swift movement I kicked Killua's shin with all the force I could manage.

He groaned. "What the— " he said gritting his teeth.

"You told me I could kick you if Gon was done before midnight," I reminded him.

Behind me Gon howled with laughter.

Killua rolled his eyes and dug his hands in his pockets.

"If you want, I could drive you home," I proposed as they both began walking forward.

"Nah, one walk home isn't gonna kill anyone," Killua assured.

"Actually," Gon said, digging out a pair of car keys from his pocket.

"You brought my car?" Killua asked wide eyed, as if someone had stolen his baby.

"Our car," Gon corrected, smirking. "I provided half the share," he informed.

"I thought we agreed only I'd get to drive," Killua argued.

"In your dreams," Gon said, grinning as he sped away towards where I supposed the car would be as he waved to me.

I raised my eyebrows and waved back.

"Hey!" Killua called behind him. "I know where you live! I live with you!"

I snorted; these boys were slightly insane.

Gon just ignored him and disappeared in the dark.

"One scratch on her and things are gonna get ugly," he muttered and turned to me. "You know I meant the car, right?" he said as he saw the way I was looking at him.

I rolled my eyes. "Stop being mean to him."

"I'm not mean to him," he assured. "I just act like I'm mean to him so he doesn't know that I really care."

We both looked at each other and he sighed. "And that slipped," he concluded clicking his tongue.

I smiled at him. "Aw, there's a sweet guy deep within that gigantic asshole cover. Very, very deep within," I added.

"So," Killua said, ignoring me. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

I shrugged. "Whatever."

"I'm assuming you're still mad."

"You assumed correctly," I said, eyeing him skeptically.

"So, why don't you guide me? How exactly could that be changed?" he asked.

I sighed and dropped my gaze. "Killua I—I want you to," I paused to find the right words. "I want you to be honest. I mean—if what happened earlier was something totally spontaneous, I get it. It's okay, you can tell me. I know, we all get caught up in the moment sometimes, I mean I don't know, do I? If you want, we can totally pretend like it never happened, because like— when I was eleven my mom started making this meat loaf, it was horrible and well I really didn't wanna hurt her feelings so I ate it, but thing is she made it over and over and then well— I told her it sucked and— she stopped making it, I learned that day that you should always let others know—"

He raised a hand to silence me and pursed his lips. "Seriously?Meat loaf?" he asked, confused.

"Yeah." I pursed my lips. I really needed to start shutting myself up.

"Wow," he mumbled. "You know, you should just let people think you're an idiot rather than opening your mouth and proving it."

I gave him a skeptical look. "You're not getting my point, what I was trying to say—"

He put a finger on my lips. "You're talking non-stop, again," he added. "You know what happens when you do that," he informed.

I blinked. "Right," I muttered as he removed his finger.

"I have two words for you," he announced. "Stop. Over-thinking."

"That's three words, technically," I said, raising an eyebrow. "And Killua really—"

He groaned. "Alright, as awkward as this sounds, let me say it," he sighed. "I kissed you," he said simply.

I just stared at him. "I know, but—" I objected.

"Wait," he ordered, raising one finger this time. "I don't know how things work in this insanely insecure brain of yours or if your thoughts are clouded or something," he said tapping my head lightly with his knuckles. "Has it magically slipped away that we've been trying that for the past week?" he asked, annoyed. "That wasn't some spontaneous, in-the-heat-of-the-moment kiss in the rain, okay?"

I just looked at him with my mouth slightly open.

"This is the part where you say something," he informed me.

"Okay," I mumbled like the idiot I was.

"Something besides that."

I stood there like a moron until my arms moved on their own and I embraced him.

He froze for a few seconds until he placed one of his hands behind my back. "Claire?" he asked lowly.

I shut my eyes and breathed in the scent of his shirt. "Yeah?" I asked.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I bit my lip. "You smell really nice," I admitted. "And your hair too."

"Uh— okay?" he said awkwardly.

"Are you two done?" Gon asked from behind us.

I jumped and we turned away. I placed a hand on my heart, I was definitely gonna have a cardiac arrest soon.

Killua scratched his head awkwardly. "Let's go," he mumbled and Gon followed.

"I'm up for Chinese tonight, what about you?" Gon proposed as they both walked away. I could hear the dingling of the keys in his hands.

"Haha Gon, joke's over," said Killua. "Hand me those keys now."

"I wasn't joking," Gon said as he pressed the button of the key and I heard a car beep.

"You'll crash her!" Killua objected as they disappeared in the darkness.

"No, I won't, I can drive just as well as you can."

"Really? Tell that to the old lady you almost got in the hospital and besides—"

I leaned against the door and listened until their chatter died away. The night smelled so sweet or maybe it was Killua's spread out scent. I passed a hand through my hair and looked at the sky. Maybe it was just me, but the stars seemed just a bit brighter.

* * *

I messily tied my hair up in a ponytail as I was trying to read the open book on the table. I had a free period, so the library was where I belonged. I groaned as I tried to blow off the strand of hair on my face since both my hands were busy. Not so shockingly, I stepped on my own feet and almost fell until I was barely caught by a set of arms that pulled me back up.

I was mentally ready for a sarcastic remark from Killua, but I just pursed my lips when I saw that the person holding me was a man, not a boy; his hair were a deep shade of brown instead of silver and emerald green eyes were sparkling before me, in contrast to the sapphire blue ones I was expecting.

"Bah," I nearly screamed as I took a step away.

The man in front of me, more commonly known as my new calculus teacher, giggled.

"Oh— God, I'm really sorry," I mumbled.

"Don't be," he said as he set me back up. "Is that a novel?" he asked, almost astonished as he stared at the book on the table.

"Uh—yes," I said, scratching my head. "There are others on the shelf," I said, pointing.

He chuckled. "No, actually, it's very rare to see a teenager holding a book that isn't included in their study course."

I shrugged. "Well, books are a good escape from reality."

"Why? Is your reality unsatisfying?" he asked as he bored his gaze into mine.

For some dumb reason, I took a step back and hit my head with the shelf. "Ouch," I gasped, holding a hand to my head.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Yes," I said, waving. "That totally—happens all the time," I sighed. The sad part was that I wasn't even lying.

He nodded slowly. I just realized that I might have seemed slightly mysterious and cool; awesome that I ruined that impression down for good. "I better go," he said, looking behind me. "Goodbye." he walked away real fast.

I just stared in the direction he went. Was he weird or was I too weird to realize what was going on. I shook my head, life was weird.

"Hey," said a masculine voice as I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Hi," I said as I bit my lip. Now this was definitely the guy I wanted to see. Killua passed a hand through his hair. "What did he want from you?" he said, staring at the direction in which Keitomaro went.

"I wish I knew," I mumbled as I picked up my book.

"Can you do me a favour?" he asked, smiling at me.

I could only stare like an idiot; his smile was so damn breathtaking. I mean, was he doing that on purpose? "Ya," I blabbered as I held my breath.

"Stay away from that guy," he said, still smiling.

I raised my eyebrows as I walked towards the hall. "Do you guys know each other?"

"No," he said as he dug his hands in his pockets. "I just don't have a good feeling about him," he admitted.

"Well, I apologize to your _vibe reading_ abilities, but he's my calculus teacher. I don't see exactly how I can stay away from him," I said as I opened my locker.

"Don't talk to him, if he comes to you walk away, ignore him," he instructed.

I gave him a perplexed look as I shut my locker and leaned against it. "You were serious?"

"No," he said sarcastically. "I set this up for the sake of your entertainment," he said as he passed his fingers through my hair.

I stared at his hand and shrugged.

"So, I was thinking," he said slowly as one of his hands moved behind my neck while the other leaned against my locker. "Why don't you have lunch with me today?"

I gave him a skeptical look. "You know I can't go in the cafeteria, are you making fun of me?" I asked, gazing at him.

"No, of course not," he assured. "I wouldn't have you doing anything you're uncomfortable with; nobody said anything about the cafeteria."

"Then?" I asked raising an eyebrow.

"I was thinking, a place with slightly less gravity," he said pointing upwards.

I looked up at the ceiling. "The roof," I concluded.

"Exactly," he said as his hand moved up and he grabbed my rubber band, using both hands he slowly removed it and let my hair down while trying to fix it. "There," he said. "Keep it that way," he advised. "So," he cleared his throat. "I'll bring lunch up there and—" he mumbled as he played with a lock of my hair.

"—Killua?" I interrupted.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Are you flirting with me?" I inquired.

He arched an eyebrow. "You know what? Maybe I am."

"Wow, that's— really smooth."

"I'm a straight forward guy," he informed as he shrugged.

"Yeah, no kidding. I wasn't expecting any poetry out of you, don't worry," I assured him.

"Poetry?" he asked, amused. "You want me to do poetry for you?"

I rolled my eyes. "That's the exact opposite of what I just said."

"No, wait. Let me do it. I wanna try out the role of a football player who is actually a poet by heart."

"Isn't that a real character from some lame chick flick?" I asked.

"It is," he admitted. "And that's what happens when Gon gets to pick a movie."

I giggled and rolled my eyes.

He cleared his throat and took one of my hands in both of his while staring into my eyes. "There's this girl," he began.

I think I slightly gaped.

"There's this girl," he repeated. "Who hangs with this incredibly hot guy," he said, smirking.

I rolled my eyes.

"Nobody else can be that hot, they can only try," he mused.

"Get lost." I pushed him back as I held back a giggle.

"He has wonderful eyes, only a shade or two darker than the sky," he added as I walked past him. "And the girl's walking away even though the guy doesn't know why," he said as he matched my pace.

I gave him a skeptical look. "The girl says get lost before I poke out your eye."

He chuckled. "Heart of a poet," he announced.

"I'm gonna be late for class," I informed as I rolled my eyes.

"I'll see you at lunch then."

"Alright, then what's the plan? Just— lunch?" I asked.

"Well we could do— stuff." he shrugged.

"Stuff?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, you know," he nodded. "_Stuff_." If I wasn't mistaken, his gaze lingered for a second on my lips.

"Okay then," I agreed. "I'll be looking forward to doing this 'stuff' with you," I mumbled.

"Stuff it is," he said and then turned around and walked away, with his casual wave.

I bit my lip and smiled as I paced on. I didn't even know what was going on anymore.

**Killua's P.O.V:-**

I impatiently dug my fingers into my seat as I stared at the blackboard with my head leaned on my palm. I swear I could almost feel some sweat on my hands as I desperately waited for the lunch bell and that was saying something; I never sweated. I passed a hand through my hair, there was definitely something wrong with me. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as the professor continued to blabber in her squeaky voice.

I had to admit, I was slightly surprised at myself. Among me and Gon, I had always seen myself as the sensible one; the responsible one. The one who put duties in front of emotions. Since I had met Gon, I always saw him as the one who would definitely fall for a girl, make breakfast for her and have weird spiky-haired mutant children that would probably call me uncle. Me? As far as I thought, I always pictured myself as the best-man at his wedding, the guy who smoked in a corner at his after-party and muttered 'tch' at least once every minute, while weighing exactly how big of an idiot Gon had been.

It was as if the tables on the future that I had always seen had turned over, and quite incredibly turned. Her rare smiles and the sweet, sweet taste of her lips. I swear running into her was a mere coincidence and trying to pursue her further was a grave mistake, but to be honest, it was the best mistake I had ever made.

Suddenly, the bell rang, breaking my train of thought. I got up and reached the door in seconds, I was almost out when—

"Killua," said a high-pitched voice.

I turned around to look at the black eyed woman, the history teacher, and gave her a questioning gaze.

"I need to have a word with you," she informed.

I resisted the urge to glare at her. "Actually, professor. I have somewhere to be, is this going to take long?"

"I'm afraid so," she said as she arranged the sheets on her desk.

I looked around and spotted Gon outside in the hallway. "Just a second," I told her. "Hey, Gon," I called.

He was grinning like an idiot as he walked to me.

"What are you so happy about?" I demanded.

He shrugged. "Nothing."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, I need a favour," I informed. "Claire's up on the roof, waiting for me. Can you get her some lunch and tell her I'll take a while?"

"Sure." He nodded.

"I owe you one." I sighed.

"Of course you do." He smirked.

My eyes widened as I watched him walk away. "Not the car," I groaned.

"I can't hear you," he called as he disappeared down the hall.

"Damn," I muttered as I walked back in.

"Sit," she invited.

I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms around my chest. "I'm good." This woman needed the 'distance' vibe.

"Well, Killua," she began. "This is about your grade record," she informed as she pulled out a white sheet of paper.

"I know, I need extra credit," I replied.

"Oh, I'm afraid, honey, you need more than just extra credit," she answered, gazing at me in a way that could never be mistaken as proper. "See, Killua. You've attended less than half of my classes, of a total of thirteen, you've only completed one of my assignments and that was a group project with Miss Gaspardo, even if you regularly attend now you don't have enough scores to make it through for the exams in November, you're going to have to be d-barred."

I stiffened. She was right, I had bunked most of my classes trying to get access to that old man's office and I doubted it would be any help if I got kicked out right now.

"But," she interjected. "Since you're a smart student," she said, raising an eyebrow. "I'm going to offer you a chance."

"Extra classes?" I asked.

"No, just one report. Give me a full fledged paper on your latest history topic; I'll give you an A in the finals."

I blinked. I was positively sure now that she had taken my flirting slightly too seriously. "Sure," I nodded.

"If you want," she added. "I could assist you, guide you through," she proposed smiling.

_Don't make me puke_. What was she like, fifty? I cleared my throat. "I wouldn't want to put you through the trouble." I smiled. "Thank you for the offer," I said as I almost headed out.

"No," she objected. "It wouldn't be any trouble at all," she said as she stood up. "I could have you in my spare time without any problem or would you like some place after school?" she asked.

I didn't like what she was implying by 'have you'. I passed a hand through my hair. Two children, as I recalled, this woman had two children and besides she was getting on my nerves. "Actually professor, I already have a study group planned out, with my girlfriend," I added, better let her down easy.

She blinked ferociously. "_Girlfriend_?" she asked as if it was the most vulgar word in existence.

"Yeah," I smiled. "The history project you were talking about, the only one I happened to have submitted, I did it with her. We both got an A in that combined assignment so, it's safe to say she can guide me flawlessly. Now if you'll excuse me," I said as I quickly rushed out.

Women, what insanely delusional and hopeless creatures. Selfish, clever, two-faced— I was wrong. My theories lead me to judge the whole gender on the base of a few, or maybe it was her, it was only her that made me misjudge it all. Was she clouding my senses? Girlfriend, didn't sound so bad when it referred to her, did it?

**Claire's P.O.V:-**

I sat with my arms wrapped around my legs and my chin leaned against my knees as a light breeze ran though my hair. I stared at the minute buildings from the roof and closed my eyes for a second. There were a million emotions, over-whelming emotions running through me, some of which I couldn't even describe and I wanted to keep it that way, I didn't want to complicate things anymore, I wanted to wrap my head around the thought that I felt good and that was it. No more freaking myself out with my idiotic insecurity. Killua was right, he was so right. He was always right, but it took me just a little time to get his point and besides I couldn't really admit he was right, not to him at least.

"Claire," said a masculine voice.

I blinked crazily as I got startled. "Gon?" I said, looking at the spiky-haired boy in front of me.

"Here," he said as he handed me a wrapped sandwich.

"What— what's this?" I asked confused.

"It's a sandwich; I really didn't know what to get you. I mean, you like sandwiches right? Most people like sandwiches, right?" he asked.

I pursed my lips. "I—I, sandwich, why?" I demanded in a supreme grammar.

"Killua got held back in class, so he asked me to get you lunch, he said he'd be here in a while," he explained.

"Oh—oh. Thanks, thank you," I said, awkwardly clearing my throat.

"You're welcome, I should go," he said as he took a few steps forward.

"Yeah," I mumbled. "Gon?" I said as something I had never considered popped in my brain.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Who were you going to have lunch with?"

"Well, I had pizza yesterday and I was thinking of getting a salad today," he answered.

I blinked. I didn't know whether he was purposely dodging my question or if he had misunderstood, but in that moment, I felt really, really bad about myself. I felt so selfish. How had I failed to notice that I was stealing away Gon's best friend? All the time Killua was spending with me, I was perfectly sure Gon was on his own because I had never seen him with anyone but Killua. He was going to have lunch alone, because of me. "I'm sorry," I gasped as I met his gaze.

"What?" he asked perplexed.

I shook my head as I felt a huge lump in my throat. I felt so evil, so selfishly evil. "Gon," I breathed as I collected myself.

"Yeah?" he asked worried.

"Can you stay? Here, with me?" I asked in a small voice.

"Sure," he smiled as he sat down next to me.

I unwrapped the sandwich and split it in two, handing him one half.

He looked at me, amused as if he was trying to understand what I was thinking.

I smiled at him. "You're Killua's cousin— his best friend and—" I paused. "I don't know anything about you, but— I want to, know you," I mumbled. I was horrible at expressing myself.

He blinked and looked at me and then his face split into a huge grin. "I got a B minus in the test," he informed.

I gasped. "_Shut up_," I said in disbelief. "That's— that's awesome!" I congratulated. I was glad yesterday's tiresome afternoon didn't go to waste.

He got into a weird sitting position and took a bite of his sandwich. "Well, I grew up on an island and Mito-san, my aunt she—" he began.

I carefully listened to his biography with my chin leaned on my palms. I couldn't help but smile, as he talked I understood exactly why he and Killua were friends. Killua was sharp, smart and deep while Gon was kind, compassionate and ebullient in every way; I don't think they realized it, but they completed each other.

**Killua's P.O.V:-**

I took a quick turn as I passed the hall and made it to the janitor's closet. It took me about thirty seconds to climb the small ladder. I walked forward and spotted her sitting at one corner with a half eaten sandwich in her hand; side by her side was Gon, weirdly gesturing with his hands. She tilted her head slightly and threw it back as she burst out laughing. "You named your pet Kon?"

Gon nodded as he smiled.

"And he was a foxbear, aren't those extinct?" she asked, amused.

"Well, no. On Whale Island we have—" Gon stopped mid sentence as he spotted me. "Hey, Killua!"

"Yo," I waved as I walked to them.

"I was keeping Claire company," he explained.

I turned to her and she smiled at me. "I can see," I said sitting down next to her.

"He can hold his breath for more than eight minutes," she said perplexed. "I didn't believe him but then he actually did it, is that even humanly possible?" she asked me.

"Just eight? Seriously? And you're bragging about that?" I asked Gon, rolling my eyes.

He stuck his tongue out at me. "Sorry, I'm not professionally trained assassin," he answered.

Both our eyes widened as we looked at her.

She was chewing on the sandwich as she looked between the two of us. "What?" she asked, confused. "Do I have something on my face?" she asked as she rubbed her cheeks ferociously.

Gon and I both sighed. I glared at him as he gave me an apologetic look.

The bell rang and Gon left quickly before he could cause any more disaster.

We sat there silently for about two minutes until she got up. "You're gonna be late for class," she informed.

I sighed. "I need five minutes."

"Are you okay?" she asked concerned.

"Yeah, just got some stuff on my mind." I shrugged.

She gave me a small smile. "Stuff?" she asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Sorry you had to wait so long," I apologized.

She smiled, the same smile that always reached her eyes. "I had a great time," she admitted. "Gon's quite a guy."

"Yeah, he's really something, isn't he?"

"Well, you're not so bad yourself." She leaned down and pressed her lips to my cheek. "See ya." She waved and walked away.

"W-What?" Did I just stutter? I blinked like an idiot and touched my face. Was I out of breath? What was this girl doing to me?

_My existence as cracking and empty as frost,_

_but as the cold lifts, I discover the light I had lost._


	12. Spectrum

Guess who sucks at and hates college? That's right, this weirdo right here. The past month was horrible and that's one of the main reasons I didn't update apart from my laziness. Well, enough about me.. you guys! It's the story's first anniversary today! I can't believe it has been a year already, trust me this has been such an amazing journey and there's so much more to come. I feel like I have grown so much in the past year as a writer and even just as being me (even though I'm still kinda childish and awkward...) I feel so old. All of you, your support and love is what keeps this story going. I am forever immensely grateful to you and I adore each and everyone of you. I've had some really cool reviewers this month, Amu Wants Noodles is one of the most hilarious and adorable reviewers I've had so far. To Kimi, my grammar vigilante, my inspiration and to Lani, one of my oldest and most amazing readers and beta-reader, I send the hugest hug I am capable of. Okay, so this author's note is getting pretty long and so is this chapter, hope it makes up for the month I skipped, dig in!

Chapter: 12

* * *

**"Spectrum."**

* * *

I slightly shivered as Killua helped me in through the window. For a few seconds, I just stood there, staring at my room's floor as I hugged myself, my hands causing wrinkles appear on the over-sized shirt I was wearing, which was Killua's.

"Now that," he said as he stood in front of me with his hands in his pockets, "Is some serious rule-breaking."

I raised my currently psychotic gaze and met his, my eyelids trembling. I felt like a volcano and if that was right, I had some serious lava burning in me. "Just," I breathed. "Just get out."

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, come on. I said I was sorry."

I narrowed my eyes. "Sorry?" I asked in disbelief. "For what exactly are you sorry? Are you sorry for making me see that horror movie? Or are you sorry for making me go through a sleepless night?" I demanded. "Wait, are you sorry for literally almost drowning me? Or are you sorry for making fun of the way I walk?"

He blinked.

"Explain to me what you are sorry for."

"Alright," he said as he led me to the bed and sat me down like I was a mentally and physically disabled person. "First of all, that wasn't a horror movie, it was an action movie; it's not my fault the slightest hints of blood make you throw up. Secondly, you were the one who refused to sleep because according to you, you were going through a 'murder thirst'," he quoted, rolling his eyes. "Third, I said I was really sorry and I'll say it again, I shouldn't have done what I did last night, it was wrong and lastly, you have to admit it's hard not to laugh at the way you stumble around," he said, disguising a chuckle as a cough.

I gritted my teeth and stood up as I rubbed my temples. "Get lost," I said as I headed for the door.

"You're taking this too seriously," he said as he followed me.

"Where are you going?" I asked him.

"Where are you going?" he asked back.

I looked around and placed a hand on my forehead in frustration. "You're not coming downstairs with me. It's seven a.m.," I shot. "I've been out all night and I'm pretty sure my parents figured that out and even if they didn't, I certainly don't wanna give the wrong impression by casually walking downstairs with you in—" I paused. "Oh, God." I passed a hand through my hair as I sped to my closet. I was about to go down there in his shirt, I had literally lost it, what was I thinking?

I pulled out my stuff from the closet and strode to the bathroom, locking the door.

"What now?" he demanded from outside. "You're gonna isolate yourself in there until it wears off?"

I took off his shirt and boxers and put on my own clothing.

"_Really_?" he asked when I didn't answer.

"Shut your mouth, I'm changing."

"Oh— and by the way you forgot your stuff at my place."

I brushed my teeth and unlocked the door. "Go to hell."

"What do want me to do with it?"

"Burn it," I said, walking to the door. "Just—stay here or leave, do whatever the hell you want," I said, shrugging.

"Why? I'm going down," he said while he tried to walk past me.

I caught his arm. "No—you—do you know what they'll think if they see you here?"

"What?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

"They—that you—we—" I stuttered. "Just— I beg you, don't go down there."

He rolled his eyes. "Seriously?"

"Killua for the sake of—"

Suddenly, the door opened and my mom was standing there, staring at both of us. "Hey," she said awkwardly, waving at us.

"Hey, Hana," Killua waved back.

I bit the inside of my cheek.

"Claire, honey where were you?" she asked.

"She was at my place," Killua said.

I face-palmed.

"We got back pretty late from the movie, so we didn't really wanna disturb you," he said, giving a one-sided smile.

"Oh—" said my mom as she nodded. "Well, it wasn't a problem really. Just," she shrugged. "We got worried, you could have called."

Killua nodded back and the way they looked at each other it seemed as if they had some sort of secret understanding.

"Honey, actually I needed a favour," she said, looking at me.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"I need to attend this party tomorrow, friend's engagement," she clarified. "I'm super busy today, and I was wondering if you could go to the mall and get me a dress?"

I looked at her, confused. "What about the red one you bought last week? You haven't even tried it on yet," I informed.

She blinked. "Red doesn't look good on me," she objected. "And besides, I need something slightly more fancy, like the kind of dress they wear at those prom thingies," she said awkwardly, moving her hand, something was wrong here.

I narrowed my eyes. "How am I supposed to get there? I don't have a car."

She gave me a skeptical look. "And that's supposed to be my fault?" she demanded. "You're the one with the 'carphobia'," she said, making quotation marks with her fingers.

I rolled my eyes. It was a matter of common observation that cars were dangerous non-living creatures.

"I could take her," interjected Killua.

"You'd do that?" asked my mom, excited.

"Sure," he shrugged.

She clasped her hands together and I looked between the two of them, something was doubtlessly fishy. "Then it's settled," she squeaked excitedly.

"What about your size?" I demanded.

"I'm the same size as you—just get me something you'd pick for yourself," she informed. "And both of you, come down for breakfast, now," she retorted as she shut the door.

I sighed and covered my face with my hands for a second until I strode past Killua and walked out and, as expected, he followed.

"Let it go already," he said as I got in the kitchen and opened the freezer, taking out some ice-cream.

I didn't answer him; I just put two scoops in a bowl and started literally stuffing it in my mouth.

"Healthy breakfast," he commented, leaning against the counter.

"I need sugar in my system to resist the urge to strangle you right now," I said through a mouthful of ice-cream. I had finished the whole thing in about a minute.

"How stubborn can you get?" he asked casually.

I took a deep breath and faced him. "Just—just go away. I really don't want to see you right now. My temper is out of control and you need to get out of my sight," I warned.

Suddenly his expression changed and he looked serious, really serious. "You don't wanna see me?" he asked, his tone was very, very velvety.

I crossed my arms around my chest. Nope, he wasn't using those mind games on me. "No."

He took a step closer. "Not even later?" he questioned, boring his gaze into mine.

I struggled keep my breath steady. "No," I said, shaking my head.

Then his hand moved down to my arm, tracing slowly down to my elbow. "Are you sure?" he asked, his lips inches away from my ear.

"I—" I stuttered. "I— wanna see you at school," I confessed.

"You do?" he asked, his hand moving down to my hip. Oh, fucking—

"Yeah," I breathed as, in one swift motion, he lifted me and placed me down on the counter.

"So, you're not mad anymore?" he asked, slowly leaning in.

"I—" I whimpered as our lips met. Considering it was our second kiss, it was embarrassing to say I was about to pass out, I was such a dork. He held my arms lightly as his lips moved slowly, perfectly. After a few seconds, he broke off. "You were saying?" he whispered.

"No," I exhaled. "No, I'm not mad anymore." I tried to catch my breath.

"Do want me to drop you off?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, my dad's dropping me off today."

"Alright, I'll see you in a while then."

"You're not staying for breakfast?" I asked.

He smiled crookedly at me. "Catch your breath," he advised as he walked away.

I covered my face with my hands and tried to control my breathing. It was ridiculous how I was letting him affect me in such a way.

Now you're probably wondering what exactly happened to drive me insane at seven in the morning and make me thug enough for a night out. Well let me tell you, it's not what you think. It's an annoyingly long and crazy story which started last night when Killua proposed we go watch a movie. Now, the tragedy was that, contrary to my expectations, the movie had quite some blood in it, which might or might not have been the reason I skipped the last part to go throw up. But the real thing started when we had to stop on the way home for an 'emergency', of the Killua kind.

Killua heaved a huge sigh of relief as he got back into the car, holding a box of candy. "Finally mine," he said, worshipping it with his eyes.

I rolled my eyes as I sat on the passenger's seat. "Guess what else is yours."

He looked at me, amused. "What?"

"This parking ticket," I said, handing him a chit of paper. "I told you to park in a proper place."

He opened a compartment in his dashboard where there were about ten more similar chits and shut it. "Another member of the family."

My eyes widened. "Are you insane?" I asked. "You could get in jail."

He shook his head and sighed. "See, Claire. That is the problem with you. You're way too afraid to break the rules."

"Yeah, I mean that's one of the tendencies of not being a criminal," I enlightened.

"Sometimes, breaking rules is fun. It's a way to challenge yourself." He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. "For example," he continued, "You freak out when you're five minutes late to class," he said, holding it between his lips.

I glared at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Throw it away," I ordered.

"No."

"I mean, seriously," I said in disbelief. "Your behaviour span varies from that of an eight-year old with a chocolate craving to a forty-year old with a smoking addiction," I said, grabbing the cigarette and crumpling it.

"Hey—" he complained as he grabbed my wrist.

"You know what I read?" I asked him.

"That's it's not nice to snatch other people's stuff?"

"No, that people that suffer from any kind of addiction usually do it to get things off their mind."

"What?" he asked, confused.

"You say you have things on your mind sometimes," I clarified.

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I don't have any psychological disorder going on, don't worry."

"It's not an illness, it's—"

"—Claire," he interrupted.

"What?"

"You're on me."

"What?" I asked confused as I looked down and understood what he meant. I had gotten so absorbed in the conversation and making him understand my point that I was on him, as in literally sitting on him with one of my wrists in his hand and my face inches away from his.

I jumped back to the passenger seat.

"It's okay you can say it," he shrugged. "You're insanely attracted to me, I get it."

I rolled my eyes. "Remember that time you said let's pretend this never happened? Let's do that again."

He snorted. "So where were we?" he asked while he started the car.

"Rule-breaking, challenging yourself," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Yes, are you up for it?" he asked as he drove forward.

"Is this some kind of a bet?" I questioned, studying his face.

"Totally," he agreed.

"Alright then, I will break rules and you—" I said, pensively. "You have to be punctual to all your classes and submit that history assignment on time and," I added. "No smoking," I challenged.

He considered it for a moment. "Done." he smirked. "And let's be clear," he added. "When I say 'I challenge you' you have to roll up your sleeves and get ready for any sort of insane dare, and by any, I mean any."

"What?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Where did that come from? Who said anything about me taking orders from you?"

"Oh, come on, you really didn't think I'd let my side of the bet be a piece of cake for you, did you?" he demanded. "We both know what breaking the rules is to you. Taking two of the steps at a time, not making your bed—"

"I never make my bed," I interjected.

"Whatever. The point is," he explained, "I have to punctually attend eight classes, complete a huge assignment and not to mention give up smoking. It's only fair that you give this bet enough flexibility to allow my rules in too."

"No way," I refused. "How can I literally obeying each and every one of your orders be fair?"

"Not orders," he corrected. "Challenges, to test your capacities."

"Of unlimited number? Each day?" I asked furiously.

"Don't worry," he assured. "No blood."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I don't trust you."

He rolled his eyes. "So, the loser has to do whatever the other person says," he announced. "Deal?" he asked, holding out his hand.

I considered it for a moment. "Deal," I agreed as I took it.

"And if you break your word?" he asked.

"I never break my word." I smirked.

He smiled crookedly. "Alright then, let's go," he said as he opened his door.

I raised my eyebrows. "Where are we going?"

"So, I'm going to take you to see a movie and not buy you ice-cream?" he asked, giving me a skeptical look.

I narrowed my eyes. "What are you up to?"

He pursed his lips and rolled his eyes. "What? Seriously? You suspect me that much?" he asked in a faked hurt voice.

I rolled my eyes and opened my door. "That's an understatement," I muttered as I got out.

"Here," he said, handing me a cone with a light green scoop on it when we stood on the pavement of the central park.

"Is this mint?" I asked, examining it.

"So it seems," he said as we both walked forward. "You don't like it?"

I shrugged. "I wouldn't know," I admitted. "I never tried it."

"And you don't want to?"

I grimaced. "No, I don't really like trying new things," I confessed.

He raised his cone with the chocolate scoop. "Well I don't either," he said, scratching his head, confused. He took mine from me and stared at both the ice-creams until he squashed them both together and twisted the mess. He handed me the cone which was now an irregular blast of green and brown.

I stared at him.

"There, now we have something old and something new," he announced. "And we can't have the old thing unless we try the new one."

I made a disgusted face. "Now that I think of it, just mint seemed a lot more tempting."

He chuckled. "Look at it through my point of view," he advised.

"Yeah, still looks like badly squashed ice-cream," I retorted.

"Break the rules," he added.

"How is eating this breaking the rules?" I demanded.

"Challenge yourself."

"I really don't want to."

"Then I challenge you," he concluded. "I challenge you, to finish that thing."

I was about to scoff when I remembered the bet we just set. I glared at him and then at the ice-cream. "Alright then, how about you hand me that packet of cigarettes you got in your pocket?"

He looked at me pensively for a minute before he pulled it out of his pocket. "I'll do that," he said, handing me the little box.

I immediately threw it in the nearest dustbin. "I think I'm ready to try this now."

"Glad you are," he said, flashing a set of perfect ultra-white teeth as he sat down on the edge of the huge fountain. "Together?" he offered.

I walked and seated myself next to him. "Together," I assented. I closed my eyes and licked the frozen mess.

"So?" Killua asked after a few seconds.

"It's not that bad," I disclosed. "You?"

He smiled. "I hate it."

I giggled. "You are one blunt guy."

"Is that a compliment?" he asked.

"I guess." I shrugged. "But you know, sometimes it seems—" I paused to find the right word. "Forced," I concluded.

"What do you mean?" he asked, confused.

"I mean—I bet there's a lot more to you—you put on a good show."

He just looked at me for a moment until he smirked and patted my head. "You're cute when you try to act smart," he said as his palm hit my head with just a little too much force and my face went crashing into the ice-cream in my hand.

I lifted my head back up and looked at him in disbelief.

"You—got—some," he said, tracing at his chin with his finger. "—on your face." He handed me a tissue.

I wiped my face. "Idiot," I muttered.

He turned and faced the water side of the fountain. "You know this water makes me curious," he ventured.

"Why?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and I finished my ice-cream and turned to look at the magnificently lit, enormous fountain of the central park.

"Because," he clarified. "I can't picture you swim."

I rolled my eyes. "Consider yourself blessed," I said as I mentally recalled the swimming lessons my mom made me take at twelve.

"So you can't swim?" he asked, amused as he raised an eyebrow.

"Can you fly?" I challenged looking away.

"You can't swim," he said to himself as he straightened his position.

I sighed.

"I'm about to do something cruel," he said, looking at me.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"I know I'll regret it," he admitted. "But I won't. Knowing that in that moment I couldn't help myself."

"Killua?" I asked, staring at him. "Are you okay?"

"Temptation," he said. "I'm helpless against it."

"What are you—"

Suddenly, he placed his hand on my shoulder and pushed me back into the water.

It took my brain just a little too long to process what had just happened. Since I had zero limb coordination, all I knew was that I was flapping my arms in a way I was sure was helping me in drowning more than getting out. As soon as I could catch a breath, I tried to scream, but instead all that came out was a whimper. I was sure now, I was about to die.

I didn't really have that slow motion perception of anything around me; to be honest, I couldn't even seem to recall why I was here in the first place. But, I did have this faded image before me as some words from really long ago echoed through my brain.

_"You have to learn to develop a feel with the water," said my swimming instructor as I jerked my arms in the water like an octopus with four missing tentacles_.

Bad memories, horrible memories.

_"You have to learn to develop a feel with the water."_

I can't, I don't even know what that means.

_"You have to learn to develop a feel with the water."_

I don't know how.

_"You have to learn to develop a feel with the water."_

I can't, I can't, I can't. I CAN'T.

I took a deep breath as someone gripped my arms tightly and pulled me out. I opened my eyes as wide as I could and coughed as I stared at the cautious looking Killua before me.

I couldn't even blink, there were just weird little noises coming out of my throat as water dripped from every single part of me. I dryly sobbed once.

His eyes widened. "Don't— don't cry," he pleaded.

I gulped, my breath hitching. My lips were trembling and my teeth were chattering loudly. I was about to cry, I was about to cry, big time.

"I'm sorry— please don't," he begged.

"I CAN'T DEVELOP A FEEL WITH THE WATER!" I exploded as tears started streaming down my face. "I CAN'T! I CAN'T! I CAN'T DO IT!"

He blinked twice and slightly gaped. "You can't," he assented.

"WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?" I demanded.

"I—I really don't know," he reiterated, looking worriedly at me.

I took a deep calming breath and glared at him.

He took a step forward and wiped my eyes lightly with his fingers and patted my head while placing it on his chest.

I was in a state of complete and utter shock. I closed my eyes and snivelled. I couldn't think straight, I didn't even have it in me to stand upright.

"I'm sorry," he whispered after a while.

I gulped. I wanted to call him names, really bad names; but I was totally out of breath and energy. "How—" I demanded breathlessly as I held the bridge of my nose. "How am I going to get home like this?" I enquired with my eyes shut.

He cleared his throat as he stepped to a side and dug his hands in his pockets. "You don't have to necessarily go—home," he added.

I stepped out of Killua's bathroom after a long—long shower to tame my nerves. I dropped the towel and looked at the over-sized shirt he had left on the bed for me. I had no idea where the wet pile of my clothes was, but even if he had disposed of it somewhere, my bra and underwear had gone with it and I wasn't sure how exactly Killua's pants could fit me without dropping off.

I pulled on the shirt and to my surprise there was a pair of black boxers under it. I just gaped at it for a moment until I covered my face with my hands; if I could blush, I would be seven shades of red right now. I closed my eyes and pulled them on. I didn't even have the stamina left to examine his room because I was still in the height of embarrassment, I strode out.

I narrowed my eyes as I saw him sprawled there on the couch, typing something on the touch screen of his phone, like he just hadn't almost drowned me a while ago.

I took a moment to gather all the reasons I was mad at him in my head, to accumulate all the rage I was capable of holding. I strode to the couch and unconsciously stepped on my own foot, falling straight on his chest. I raised my head and we both looked at each other for an instant, his face was too close, too close. I quickly collected myself and stood up.

He chuckled casually as he met my gaze. "You know you make exactly the same face each time you trip or occasionally,drench," he added, raising his eyebrow.

I scowled at him and gritted my teeth. "YOU JERK!" I shouted as I kicked him on his shoulder.

"What the—hey—" he said. I pulled at his hair.

"How dare you do that and think you can get away with it! You bastard! Idiot!" I said, smacking his forearm. "You fucking asshole!"

He quickly grabbed my wrists and shifted in a matter of seconds until he had me pinned to the couch and was above me.

"Let go you—"

He caught both of my hands in one of his and placed a hand on my mouth as he glared at me.

I stopped struggling for a moment.

He removed his hand and raised a finger to his lips. "Gon's asleep," he notified. "If he wakes up because of this fuss you're making, I promise you'll regret it," he warned.

I blinked once and just stared at him until I raised my leg and kicked him square in the abdomen.

He jerked back as he wasn't expecting it. "What is wrong with you?" he whisper-shouted.

I caught my breath as I sat upright. "Consider yourself lucky; next time I take aim, I'll make sure you can't ever even attempt to reproduce."

His eyes widened. He shifted back and leaned his head against the couch, closing his eyes. "It's three in the morning, you should get some sleep."

I didn't answer, I just retreated to one side of the couch.

"You can go in my room, I'll sleep out here," he told me.

Again, I didn't answer. I still had a whole lot of unattended business left with him.

"You can lock the door," he assured.

"What about I lock your face?" I suggested. "What about I kill you?"

He blinked at me. "You seriously need some rest."

"I can't sleep," I said. "And I advise you not to either, I can't make any promises about not trying to murder you in your unconsciousness."

"I said I was sorry, what else do you want?" he asked, exhausted.

"I want you to take me home, right now."

He gave me an annoyed look. "I'm not taking you home at this time, wait until morning," he said as he closed his eyes.

I crossed my arms around my chest and examined his apartment. "How come you live two streets away from me and I didn't find out until today?" I asked.

He didn't reply; he just sat there with his eyes closed.

I sighed and walked to the room grabbing a pillow. I placed it on the arm of the couch and with all the strength I had in me, I pushed Killua to the side, until his head leaned against it. He shifted slightly and peeked through his eyelashes. "Can't you kill me tomorrow?" he mumbled.

I rolled my eyes as I turned on the TV and lowered the volume. "Tomorrow it is."

* * *

"Claire?" my dad asked, waving his hand in front of me as I sat lost in thought on the kitchen counter.

"Y-yeah?" I asked, stuttering.

"Are you drooling?" he asked worriedly.

I immediately moved my fingers to my lips. For the— "I'm sweating," I mumbled, getting off the counter.

"Through your mouth?"

"Apparently."

"Are you ready to go?"

"Oh—yeah. Yeah, just let me grab my bag," I said. I sped to my room.

"Remind me again," I said as my dad started the car. "Why are you dropping me to school today?" I fastened my seat belt.

He rolled his eyes as he drove forward. "For the billionth time, I'm leaving for York New," he said, taking a turn. "Does that ring a bell about the story I told you yesterday?" he demanded.

"Oh—yeah. Last three days of the auction, you're leading the surveillance team," I recalled.

"Exactly."

"I don't get it, September's almost gone by and not a single tragedy."

"It's surprising," he admitted. "No threats yet either, they're just being cautious by arranging super-tight security for the end of the auction."

"Maybe the Zoldycks finally decided to step-down," I mumbled.

"Maybe," he agreed.

We both just sat there in an awkward silence for a few minutes.

"This is weird," I said after a while.

"It is," he said, stopping at a red light.

"We weren't like this before, were we?" I asked.

"Not really," he admitted.

"I don't get it, why do I feel this weird—" I said, moving my hand sideways, "Distance."

He didn't answer; he just kept staring at the signals.

"Dad?" I asked, worried.

"Yeah?" he asked as we moved forward, not meeting my gaze.

"What's going on?" I demanded.

"Nothing," he shrugged, acting unaffected.

I just stared at him.

He kept looking at the windshield until he finally sighed. "Fine—it's just that—I never—we just don't get to spend any time together anymore," he confessed. "I know," he justified, "You have a boyfriend now and kids grow up and you have to let them go eventually but—" he didn't finish the sentence and I knew he wasn't going to. He was horrible at expressing how he felt, like me.

I just stared at him. "D-dad, I—I'm—" I stuttered. I really didn't have words. I couldn't even tell him how sorry I was, what an idiot I was for not realizing it or how bad I felt right now.

"Honey it's just—" he began. "I miss you."

I felt a huge lump in my throat as I bit my lip. "I miss you too dad—I'm so sorry."

"No don't be, it's okay—"

"No," I interrupted. "It's not okay—I need to—I'm going to make it up to you and you know what? You and I are going to spend some quality daughter-father time together," I announced.

He took the last turn as we entered the school's parking lot and stopped the car. "Like a dinner?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Monday?" he asked, smiling.

I nodded. "It's a date?" I smirked.

He chuckled. "It's a date," he agreed.

I hugged him. "I love you, dad, I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too honey," he said, kissing my hair.

"Take care of Hana," he requested.

"I will," I promised. "But I'm not reading those nursery rhymes with her, the mother's voice soothes the baby," I quoted, rolling my eyes.

He chuckled. "My mom too, and yourself."

I sighed. "Of course," I agreed. "But don't talk like that dad, makes me feel like you're not coming back."

"Life is unexpected, but I'll be here as long as you need me."

"Dad—I'll always need you, don't let go just yet."

"I wasn't going to," he said, holding me tighter.

"Killua?" I said as I spotted him, standing outside the car's door.

My dad retreated and faced him.

"Sorry," he apologized, scratching his head. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No, not at all," said my dad and I at the same time.

I got out of the car as he and my dad were talking. I waited for about five minutes until they were done and we waved my dad goodbye.

"We," said Killua, placing his arm around my neck. "Are going to have some _real_ fun today."

"If you do anything like last night," I warned. "I swear I will break your teeth into a thousand pieces and make you put them back together with adhesive."

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't worry," he assured. "Today is not about what I'll do, it's all about what you'll do," he smirked.

My eyelids trembled and I cursed myself internally for accepting that bet. I could have just drawn out, but giving up right now and proving myself inferior to him while he already had this mental feud against the female gender? This was war and I had really small chances of survival. Today was going to be a long day.

* * *

I ran out of Biology II with a book covering my face, I peeked around the edges very carefully. I needed strategy, camouflage. Once I would cross the library, I could make it straight to the girl's restroom and then I would be safe unless he was shameless enough to follow me there.

I hesitantly took a turn until a short girl handed me a flyer, freaking me out. I simply strode past her, glancing once at the piece of paper, still reminding everyone about the homecoming dance, which was tomorrow, as if all the chatters of excitement and the materials for the decorations strewn everywhere weren't enough.

I crumpled it and threw it in the bin at the last turn and just as I was about to make it, I felt a strong grip around my arms and I was spun around in the matter of seconds.

"Woah," said Killua, smirking. "Not so fast."

I glared at him. "What are you? A dark sorcerer?" I blabbered.

He raised an eyebrow. "I believe the word you're looking for is—" he paused, "Incredibly hot Greek God."

I rolled my eyes. "How is that even relevant?"

"Where were you going?" he asked, dodging my question.

"Hell," I replied. "Unless you're gonna be there too."

He rolled his eyes. "I've been fair to you."

"You made me throw a paper ball at the history teacher," I reminded.

"She deserved it."

"You made me quit my library duty."

"You hated that job," he reminded.

"But—but now the librarian hates me."

He gave me a skeptical look. "And how does that affect you?"

"I—"

"Listen to me; she's a loser that's trying to hand her job down to you. Let her hate you," he advised. "She can't do anything more than that."

"What if she glares at me?" I asked.

"Give her the middle finger," he said like it was something obvious.

I sighed. "Why did you make me sign up for tennis tryouts?" I demanded.

He gave me a weird look as I realized he was biting back a huge grin.

I pushed him aside and walked forward. "I hate you," I said through gritted teeth.

He matched my pace. "So, I was thinking, next you should—" he began.

I stopped and raised a hand silencing him. I sniffed carefully. "Is that—?" I caught a hold of his shirt and pulled him forward and smelled him. "Is that tobacco?" I asked.

He raised both his hands. "I swear I haven't even touched a cigarette."

He was right, he smelled like he always did, amazing. I looked behind me and spotted a black-haired guy smoking by the lockers. I sighed. "Your self-control can't be that flawless," I mumbled as I paced ahead.

"Contrary to your desire,it is." He smirked.

I sighed again. I was sighing a lot today.

"You know what?" he said, looking at my destroyed expression. "I'll give you a deal, a concession," he clarified.

"Like what?"

"Just complete this one last challenge and I won't ask you to do anything for the rest of the afternoon."

"Like really?" I enquired.

"Yeah."

"And—and what exactly do I have to do?" I asked cautiously.

He caught my shoulders and spun me around as he brought us to a stop. We were standing right in front of the cafeteria doors. "Get yourself lunch," he said.

I blinked. "Sorry?" I demanded, horrified.

"You heard me. Go in there—get yourself lunch, that's it."

"Like—literally go in there?"

"Yeah."

I took a deep breath. "I can't—do, I can't do that. Do that— I can't."

"Come again?" he said.

"I can't do that," I mumbled. "I can't—people—no." I shook my head.

"Hm," he said pensively. "Well then." He spun around. "I have a lot of other things in mind, for this afternoon as well," he added. "Let's go." He indicated, jerking his head to a side.

I took in a hesitant breath and looked carefully at the cafeteria doors. "Just—just get myself lunch?" I questioned.

He raised an eyebrow. "That's what I said."

I balled my hands into fists and closed my eyes. Just get myself lunch. "Al—alright," I nodded. "No more stupid dares until the rest of the afternoon," I encouraged myself.

"I could come with if you want," he proposed.

"NO," I said immediately.

He gave me a disapproving look.

"If you'll come people will stare, at you," I explained.

He rolled his eyes and gestured towards the cafeteria.

I took one really deep breath and brought my trembling hand to the doors. With my eyes tightly shut, I pushed it open.

I had really no idea what I had expected it to be, but as I slowly opened my eyes, the scene before was quite—ordinary.

People—people on their tables, people standing in lines, people playing with their food, people staring at food, people with more people and nobody seemed to be idle enough to stare at me. I felt really tiny, as almost non-existing, people minding their own business—I liked that.

As soon as I regained the feeling that I had feet, I stumbled forward and took a place in line. I examined each and every part of the cafeteria and it wasn't actually white like I pictured it, it was full of colours—faded colours. The best part was no one was staring and even if one out of these seemingly millions of people were, the thought didn't bother me.

"Do you want something?" asked the irritated looking lunch lady, breaking my train of thought.

"Yes," I replied immediately. "I'll have—" I said as my gaze darted between the displayed food. "That." I pointed.

She raised an eyebrow. "A hamburger?"

I nodded. I felt slightly smug.

"Your tray?" she questioned.

"W-what?" I asked, confused.

She sighed. "Honey, pick up a tray from that column." She gestured.

"Oh—right," I said, obeying her instructions and took my weird looking lunch to a completely empty table.

"How did that feel?" asked a familiar voice from my side. I spotted Killua sitting next to me.

"When did you—?" I began startled, but then decided to give up and shook my head. "I feel good," I admitted.

"You do?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "No injuries? No deaths? No people—_staring_ at you?" he said the word like it was forbidden.

I rolled my eyes as I poked the hamburger.

"Don't eat it," he ordered. "It's disgusting."

I blinked and looked around. "People are staring," I admitted. "Because of you," I added. "But, I can always pretend like they aren't—and even if I can't do that, to be honest, I really don't care," I concluded.

He leaned his chin on his fist. "Took you long enough to get there." He smirked. "Don't give a fuck of what other people say, do, or think, understood?"

I pursed my lips and nodded. "I feel really good," I admitted, biting back a grin.

* * *

I was still in the same smug-slash-excited mode as we walked out to the parking lot. I felt like jumping, no—hopping.

"Settle down," advised Killua, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Save that energy for later."

I looked at him in disbelief. "You promised," I complained. "No more dares for the rest of the afternoon."

"And I'll keep my word," he mused, raising an eyebrow. "But you better keep yours."

"What?"

He sighed and stared at his wrist watch. "You promised Hana you'd go shopping for her," he reminded. "And I'm supposed to take you there." He opened the car door for me.

I paused, looking at him. "She's making it up," I informed him as I got in.

"What do you mean?" he asked as he sat down and started the car.

"The engagement thing," I clarified. "She's married and has been married for ten years, why would she have a friend who isn't even engaged yet?"

"People have friends with age differences." He shrugged as he reversed.

"Yeah, but I know most of her friends, they're either married or embracing eternal loneliness," I mumbled.

"What about a divorced friend who's getting re-engaged?" he proposed as we got stuck behind a line of cars.

"In a day?" I asked.

"Anything could happen."

"She's up to something," I mused. "I just can't figure out what."

He watched me from the corner of his eyes as we moved forward. "Why do you over-analyze things?" he demanded.

I gave him a skeptical look. "Because I know my mom really well and not being able to figure out her intentions is stressing me," I admitted.

"Well that shouldn't be upsetting you," he announced. "You get to go shopping, girls like that, don't they?"

"Yeah," I said faking excitement. "Love it."

"What is it," he said as we finally exited the school's parking lot. "That makes you, you?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"You know what I mean. How does your brain work?" he said, stirring the wheel as we took a turn.

I exhaled with a short laugh. "Killua, are you okay?"

"I'm a hundred percent serious," he promised. "I want to know what goes inside that brain of yours."

I looked at him carefully. "I wouldn't know, would I? There's a glitch in there, maybe."

He pursed his lips pensively. "Girls are weird," he concluded.

There, he did it again. I still couldn't understand what he was so at war with girls. "But I know this," I said, shifting my legs. "That you can't judge a whole group of people based on a single person, you can't judge a gender," I said, attempting to clear his misunderstandings. "We're all like—specs—of the same glass, we all impart different colours with light because it's up to us—how we refract that light within us, you know? Our own spectrum?"

He didn't answer; he just kept staring at the windshield deep in thought. "Our own spectrum," he mumbled after a while.

We were both silent as he parked the car and we entered the mall. The awkward quietude still didn't end when we got out of the elevator; he held the door for me as we entered the first store in sight.

It more crowded than usual, which reminded me again that the Homecoming dance was tomorrow, people had definitely left their shopping for the last day. I found it quite a coincidence that my mom needed a dress on the same day.

I walked past the racks with Killua following behind while I examined the dresses. I wasn't a shopping person, really. It wasn't that I hated buying clothes or anything, I was a girl after all, but I just didn't like going into stores, it made me feel suffocated.

On the other hand, I had a good taste in fashion, something I might be slightly smug about. My mom had always counted on me to pick out her outfits and I had always faithfully helped her out. It did make sense that she wanted me to choose her a dress, but the story behind it seemed slightly cliché.

I stopped to look at a particular red dress. It was tea-length, a kind of gown that was hemmed just about at the end. I could picture my mom in it and she'd look good but the problem was the colour, red was out of question.

"I like it," Killua commented.

I turned to him. "You do?"

He nodded.

"The problem is that it's red and she doesn't want that colour."

He looked at me with a questioning look as if he had forgotten about something and was extremely frustrated about it, after a while, he just shrugged.

It was about ten minutes later that I spotted a dress that made me stop and stare. It was a blue high-low gown, hemmed long in the back and just above the knees in the front, with a little glitter on the belt.

"What do you think?" I asked Killua, gesturing at it.

He examined it carefully. "It's perfect," he concluded. "It'd look great on you and best of all it matches my eyes." He blinked showing me the full glory of his thickly lashed, sapphire blue eyes as he smirked.

I blinked at him and stood there for a moment. "You know I'm getting this for my mom right?" I reminded him.

He met my gaze. "Oh, it's still a good dress."

He was right, it was beautiful in so many ways, but again this wouldn't be something that'd look suitable on a thirty year old. It was literally the kind of dress that'd be perfect for prom or in this weekend's case, the Homecoming dance. Even if I did buy it, I'd feel guilty for depriving some stranger girl of the perfect dress for the dance.

"No," I shook my head. "The dress is great, but it wouldn't look right on my mom."

"If I recall correctly," he said, passing a hand through his hair. "Hana said get her something you'd pick for yourself, didn't she?" he demanded.

"Yeah, but I mean come on—"

"Didn't she?"

"Yeah," I sighed.

"Would you buy this for yourself?"

"Well, probably, but I don't really wear dresses and—"

"Would you?"

"Yeah," I concluded.

"Then it's settled, that's the dress," he imposed.

I pursed my lips. He could be really pushy at times. "Alright, then. I'll need it in a size or two bigger," I mumbled to myself.

"Why? It would fit you just right," he opposed.

"Killua, I'll remind you again, I'm getting this for my mom."

"I know but again, if I recall correctly she distinctly said that she was the same size as you."

I gave him a weird look. He was acting so strangely, like getting the perfect dress was a matter of life or death for him. "She's pregnant," I reminded him.

He stared at me, probably coming up with another comeback. "By barely two weeks?"

"Killua, why are you—" I began, irritated.

"Just get the damned dress Claire, if the size isn't right we'll come back and change it."

I sighed in frustration. "Fine," I said through gritted teeth.

We had the dress packed and I was about to take my credit card from my wallet just when Killua took it out of my hand in one swift movement. "What the—?" I asked confused.

"Go sit in the car." He gestured outside, handing me the bag.

"Excuse me?" I demanded. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Asking you to go sit in the car?"

I glared at him. "Yeah, you can go do that with your blonde barbie fans all over the city, but don't you dare it with me. Give it back."

He drummed his fingers on the counter and shrugged as he took out his own credit card, raising my wallet to a fair height, which I definitely couldn't reach.

"Give it back," I ordered. I just stood there like an ignored kid as he paid for it and handed me back my wallet.

He raised an eyebrow, the way he did when he was about to impose a serious order. "You do not touch your wallet when you are with me."

I gritted my teeth so hard as we walked to the car, my jaw literally started hurting.

"Are you crying?" he asked as I sat with my arms crossed around my chest, pouting at the window.

I angrily rubbed my eyes. "No," I muttered.

"I don't get you," he said, frowning. "Why do you let little things get to your head?"

"Why do you impose your decisions on me?" I demanded furiously.

He stared at me for a moment. "Because I can decide better what's better for you."

I groaned. "It's my life! Why don't I get to choose?"

"Of course you get to choose," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You can always choose to agree with me."

I glared at him.

"Alright," he said as he glanced at his cell phone's screen. "I know something that can cheer you up."

"What? Smacking that annoying smirk off your face?"

He rolled his eyes. "Wait and see."

* * *

"That's Aries," I said as I moved Killua's finger tracing an irregular line.

"How can you tell?" he asked amused.

I shifted my legs as we were sitting on the bonnet of his car. He was absolutely right; this was bound to cheer me up. He had driven to the highest hill there was in Noda, and at night, it was a sight to see. I used to come here with my dad when I was younger, then I just—grew up.

"Because," I clarified, looking at the amazing blast of stars. "It's autumn; all you have to do is trace the middle star in the lower chain of Andromeda, it's clearer then."

He raised an eyebrow. "In English?"

I rolled my eyes. "Most of the stars are faint in autumn; you look at the brightest one and trace the others from there, once you find one you can detect the others. Well, to be honest, mine is a guess, I track Aries mostly because it's my zodiac."

He scratched his head. "You believe in this stuff? That people are affected by their zodiacs?"

"Of course I do, people born under the influence of certain stars have a lot of similarities."

He stared up at the sky.

"Cancer's most probably not there in this time."

"Huh?" he asked.

"Your zodiac," I explained.

"Right—I don't believe in that crap."

"Of course you don't," I mumbled, looking at the little twinkling lights of the city below us.

"Are you afraid of heights?" he asked curiously.

"Surprisingly— no," I admitted. "Are you?"

"I'm not afraid of anything." He shrugged.

I sighed as I hugged myself. "Is there somebody you love Killua?" I inquired.

He looked at me surprised. "What?"

"Are there people in this world you care for?"

He didn't answer; he just kept staring below as if he hadn't heard me.

"There are, aren't there?" I asked. "So, as long as there is a single person you love, you'll always live with the fear of losing them," I concluded. "You are afraid."

"I don't love," he said. "Love's for suckers."

"Yeah," I sighed. "You work so hard, don't you? To hide how you really feel?"

He still didn't meet my gaze. "I don't need to hide anything."

"Then why do you?" I demanded angrily. "Why do you try to play the role of this—emotionless—hardcore—jerk?"

"Shut up, Claire," he answered simply.

I just stared at him and then looked away. He was making me feel so—furious. There was a short silence.

"Girls," he said, irritated after a while. "You think you're so smart, don't you?"

I glared at him. "You don't underestimate any of the two genders, huh?" I said, recalling his words. "What's this feud that you have with girls? What—what's the difference anyway? Aren't we all human? Killua, aren't you afraid of being alone?" I demanded.

"Nope," he said coldly.

"Doesn't the dark scare you?"

"I am the dark."

"Rejection? Denial?" I asked desperately.

"That's life."

"Pain?" I breathed. "Getting hurt?"

"Why does it matter?" he asked.

"It matters to me," I whispered. "Killua, this world is a very scary place and I don't see how someone can even fathom to live without hope," I said as my voice shook.

"Life is nothing, Claire," he said, clenching his fist. "Trust me, it's a lie. Believe in nobody; people tell you they love you, they don't mean it. I am an emotionless jerk, a bad person. You're an idiot if you have hope for me or anyone else, it doesn't work, trust me." He finally met my gaze and it was enough to leave me startled. It was as if his whole existence was crumpled and I saw just a glimpse of it, revealed in shorter than an instant, until he masked it again.

"Don't say that," I pleaded. "You're too young."

He scoffed. "And you're supposed to be the older and wiser one here?" he retorted.

My lip slightly trembled. It scared me what kind of pain he was disguising, just the thought of his bruises terrified me. "I am older than you," I said, trying to lighten the mood. "By three months which makes me wiser," I mumbled.

He sighed. "And the bigger idiot."

"You know, I'm thinking you've told this lie so many times you've started believing it yourself."

"What?" he asked confusedly.

"You're not a bad person," I said softly.

"What makes you say that?" he asked, sighing as he looked away.

"You're there when I need to talk, you listen to me. You understand. It's okay to cry in front of you—you're my first friend ever and—and I feel okay when I'm with you, I look at you and all I see is—" I stopped.

"What?" he asked, boring his gaze into mine.

"Hope," I whispered as I leaned forward and softly pressed my lips to his.

At first, he just seemed frozen, but after a while he kissed me back, pressing me against him. He was so cold. The only thing I wished for was anything that could end his pain, anything. It hurt so much, because in that moment he seemed so vulnerable, so—breakable and that was the one thing I had never pictured him as.

Our lips parted after a while as I leaned back and placed my head on his shoulder. For a few seconds, there was just the sound of our really loud breathing.

"I challenge you," he said after a while.

I blinked in disbelief, what an asshole. "I decline your challenge."

"Why?" he asked, confused. "You don't even know what I'm going to say."

"Yeah, but whatever it is, it will involve shifting and I don't want to ruin this moment right now," I mumbled.

"So, you admit defeat?" he asked, surprised.

"I do," I shrugged.

"You lose the bet?" he pushed.

"Technically."

"You have to do what I say?"

"Apparently."

"Anything?" he inquired.

"That's what the bet said," I sighed. What was the worst he could make me do? Jump from a roof?

"Alright," he said. "You have to go to the Homecoming dance with me," he announced.

I jerked my head so fast it felt like I had broken my neck and looked at him in utter shock.

He looked back at me as smoothly as if he wasn't seeing what he was actually seeing on my face. I kept waiting for the moment in which he would smirk and say 'kidding' but it never came and his expression assured me he was a hundred and ten percent serious.

_The galaxies are colliding; I see it from afar,_

_the universe is dispersing, I'll hold on to my heart._


	13. Evanescent

Hello people! I am back and just as annoying. SO, you're probably wondering why I'm updating so early, well the thing is that you know I skipped last month and this was the chapter I was supposed to post this month, this was the chapter I wanted to leave you people with. Once again thank you for your reviews, you guys rock. Now, there is a lot of fluff in this chapter but there's also a cliffhanger at the end (don't hate me after that, and if you do, that makes two of us). A quick thanks to my amazing beta readers, awesome people, don't know where I would be without them. Let me know what you think and dig in!

Chapter: 13

* * *

**"Evanescent."**

* * *

"I don't get you two," complained the old man from the other side of the line. "You've spent the past five years looking for this ghost of a man, you get the slightest of hints, you chase them; and in the end it's always nothing. And this time, you're after something that is completely theoretical."

I leveled my glasses to the bridge of my nose as I flipped through the pages of the irksome history book. Listening to that ancient man's ranting along with the task of working on a shit of an assignment, someway to spend the weekend. "So what do you want us to do?" I retorted, holding my phone between my ear and shoulder. "We have to take our chances, it's peculiar how Gon's father is so well known, but nobody has a single clue where he is; it's like he's erasing his steps."

"You're assuming he's hiding from something?"

"Or someone," I proposed. "It's quite impossible that he's playing hide and seek with his own son; that's too lunacy, even for Ging Freecss."

"Isn't that what he wants? For Gon to come after him? Isn't this sort of a challenge?"

"You don't understand," I explained. "There's no pattern, no single trace of where he goes and what he does. It's like he's only running blindly with the sole purpose of not being found."

"Beats me." He sighed. "If you ask me, I've always found that man a bit too 'gaga'," he emphasized. "Not that I know him really, and no offense; the son's a bit loco too, in a good way though."

I rolled my eyes as I scribbled on the sheet of paper. "Nevertheless, we have to do what we can."

"Take a break," he advised. "Why don't you join us here? The auction is fairly entertaining."

"How's that workaholic?" I asked, ignoring his invitation. "Still getting on everyone's nerves?"

"You know Kurapika, he wants perfection," he lamented. "He's arranging top security for the auction's last days. It's been five years since the spider's attacked, there are no threats, everything's going smoothly, but you know how he rolls."

"Well, you can never be too cautious," I approved.

There was a short pause. "So, you still haven't found anything? Not a single clue?"

"We're taking it slow. The man's worked for the JCI, so he's not clueless. If anything's slightly out of order, we'll be among the suspects since we're the new entries. I wanna give it some time, maybe we'll just observe for a few months. One step at a time, the fewer traces we leave behind, the better. Best to avoid being reckless."

"Speaking of reckless, I've heard you've been going a little too loose on drinking and I'm assuming you're letting the tobacco have its fair share as well? Go a bit easy, that's not how you deal with stress."

I scoffed. "I'm seventeen, I can do whatever the hell I want and, by the way, you can stop keeping checks on our bank account, we're not involved in anything illegal."

"So Zepile told me," he informed. "You boys sure know how to deal with money, eh?"

"It's all about tactic," I assured. "Hold on a minute, I have someone on the other line," I said as I swapped on the screen. "You can't go a day without me, can you?" I demanded, smirking.

"I hate you," she stated. "And I'm not forgiving you, ever."

"That's exactly what you said last time," I reminded. "We know how this ends."

"Shut up, you asshole. I can't believe you and my mom would trick me like that! And to think you had it all planned out, the bet, the—the stupid excuse for getting a dress—what are you, huh? Plotting stuff in that evil brain of yours. And if you think—"

"Are you done?" I asked, bored.

"—NO!" she shot back. "Call my mom right now and tell her that you're busy, your dog died or something," she ordered.

"No," I answered simply.

"Excuse me?" she demanded in disbelief.

"I said no."

"I seriously—" she began.

"We had a bet didn't we?"

"Yeah, but that was—"

"We had a bet and you lost it, now it's up to you to face the consequences. Doesn't matter if it was all planned or a conspiracy of the county's government. You lost, end of story."

"Well, I won't—"

"You never break your word, that's what you said," I recalled. "Are you planning on doing that now? Or were you lying from the start?"

"—I never lie! And no—"

"Well, then. That's all cleared up," I interrupted. "I'll come pick you up in a few hours."

"Killua, please," she begged. "This isn't even about me not able to go in crowded places anymore, dancing—it's not possible—please."

"Chill," I convinced her. "It's gonna be fine."

I heard a long desperate sigh. "You're not even listening to me."

"Haven't I told I won't have you doing anything you're uncomfortable with? Trust me."

"What's the use of all this technology if I can't even punch you through the screen right now?" she asked, frustrated as she hung up.

I snorted and shut the book on my lap. She really was something.

"Was that a girl?" I heard the old man's voice, full of devilish intent.

My eyes widened. I couldn't believe I forgot to send him on hold, he was listening the whole time.

"It was! I'm thinking I know now why you're taking it slow for a few months, all the excuses—" he rattled.

"Shut up," I said through gritted teeth as I hung up. I took off the glasses and threw the phone on the bed, I was thinking of how I needed to keep check on Gon's conversations with that perverted man from now on.

**Claire's POV:-**

I had put so much effort in keeping my face straight, that it had literally started hurting. _You'll get to break his face. _That was what I kept chanting in my head as I sat in my mom's huge bathroom, in front of her large-sized mirror as she pampered me. It was making me sick: the heat of the iron, the tight, stinging bobby pins and the makeup she was applying on my face. Moreover, the process required complete stillness. "Look up." or "Keep your head straight." were the lines she had been repeating over and over when I bent over to take a look at my phone or tried to give my muscles some movement to avoid being eternally handicapped.

"Mom," I said, mustering some courage.

"Yeah?" she answered almost in the same instant. But that wasn't what surprised me. It was the tone of her voice and I was rendered speechless when I actually saw the expressions on her face. She looked happy, mesmerized, in pure bliss. I didn't have it in me. I couldn't break her heart. I faked a one-sided smile. "Thanks," I mumbled.

"Oh, honey, you're welcome!" she shrieked as she caught me in a hug so tight that I could have died if she kept me like that for even a second more due to the lack of air.

I caught my breath and sighed. It was just then when another huge wave of guilt hit me straight in the gut, just like the one I had felt yesterday when I was in the car with my dad. I was being unfair to my mom, this wasn't how it ought to be. I should be the daughter who'd go shopping with her, gossip on nonsense and give her manicures. I didn't do any of that; hell, I never even spared a little time to just talk to her. I never asked her how she was doing these days. In other words, I was a jerk. "Mom," I muttered again.

"Yes?" she asked as she applied some mascara on my eyelashes.

"How are you?" I asked in a small voice.

She paused and took a look at me.

I met her expression with a blank face.

"Are you okay honey?" she asked, concerned.

I nodded. "I'm fine. I was just thinking how we haven't talked in a while and I feel bad that I've been ignoring you guys because of all the time I've been spending with Killua. I'm sorry."

She raised an eyebrow and looked at me. "Honey, we're _glad_ you're spending time with him."

"But dad was disappointed, and he was right."

She smiled. "Hachiro can't help his natural fatherly instincts. Isn't every father is slightly too possessive about his daughter?"

"I know." I shrugged. "You want me to associate with someone my age, but it's still not fair—"

"Claire," she said softly. "This isn't about you hanging out or trying to be social."

"It's not?" I asked, confused.

She shook her head. "Honey, look at you."

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You've changed more in the past month than you have since these seven years," she clarified.

"What?"

"You don't stutter anymore," she enlightened.

I pursed my lips. "And you think that's because of Killua?"

"Honey," she said, placing a hand on my cheek. "That boy has influenced you in an amazing way. All the time he looks at you, I wish you could see what I see. How you two are with each other."

I looked down, this was so embarrassing.

"You know it's one in a million, the chance of finding someone like that. Try looking in his eyes sometimes, I think you'll be surprised," she said as she resumed her task.

"Mom, can you stop embarrassing me," I mumbled.

"I'm your mom; that's my job and, by the way, I'm done. Now go change," she said as she ushered me out.

The dress didn't look so pretty when you realized what crap you had to go through to put it on without messing the hair my mom had just spent two hours making. I vainly tried to reach the zipper, to the point my hand started hurting. After nearly fracturing my fingers, I managed to pull it up. It seemed to me that the hard part was over until I saw the pair of heels that was placed near my bed. I nearly fainted. What the hell was my mom thinking? Walking and breathing at the same time was already one hell of a task for me and while wearing those...

I strapped up the heels and took two calm steps forward until I decided to glance myself at least once in the mirror. I froze for a second, because, in the literal sense of the meaning, I couldn't recognize the figure staring back at me. I blinked twice and the girl in the mirror did the same. The one thing that kept me from believing that that was me, was that she was beautiful—and I knew I wasn't.

The door knocked, startling me. "Yeah?"

"He's here," my mom informed briefly, she didn't even open the door.

I held my breath and glanced at the window, even at the last second I was kind of hoping he'd hop in from there.

He was standing right by the last stair, looking up. I didn't dare meet his eyes, I just took a second to examine him. Hot guy in a suit? My breath was hitching already. From a normal teenage girl, everyone would expect a grand entry, a great display of grace. From me? Well, since the audience consisted of my mom, my nonna, and Killua, since they knew me so well, they didn't even expect me to make it without tripping and sadly they were right. As soon as I got past the first stair, the heels displayed their first miracle and sent me almost flying straight down.

"I got you," Killua whispered as he had one hand behind my waist and one on my shoulder. I blinked when our gazes met. He then swiftly caught my hand and pulled me up until I was standing upright.

"I hope you enjoyed the grand opening," I mumbled, trying to mask my tension.

He smirked. "I'm looking forward to the night already."

I blinked as something flashed right in my eyes. We both looked forward and I saw the camera in my mom's hand.

"Cheese?" she squeaked, gesturing with her hand.

I forced a smile on my face and there was another flash.

"Now look at each other!" my mom nearly shouted.

I felt like digging a hole and burying myself into it. This was so embarrassing. I slowly raised my gaze and found him already staring.

"Don't worry," he assured. "I don't think I can shoot lasers out of my eyes, not yet at least."

I tried to keep a serious expression, but the camera flashed just as soon as a smile crept on my face.

After that, there was a whole episode of my mom sobbing and crying about how I was all grown up now and my nonna almost blocked my windpipe by squashing us both together in a bone crunching hug, and that was saying something since she was in her sixties.

Al last, as we were both seated in his car and driving forward, I took a deep breath. My hands were sweating as I nervously twiddled with my thumbs.

"I think I owe you a compliment," Killua said, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes.

I looked up. "Really?"

"I'm not that big of a jerk. Why so surprised?"

"No, it's just—okay." I nodded.

"You're exceptionally beautiful," he said, boring his gaze into mine.

I think I slightly gaped. If I could blush, I'd be on fire. "Thank you," I breathed. "You look really—you know—" I mumbled. Breathtaking.

"I'm hoping that sentence is going to end with something good."

"Really good—you look really good."

He didn't answer, he just steered the wheel and took the next turn. I was a bit surprised, he wasn't acting like the smug idiot he usually was.

I leaned my elbow against the door and just looked outside, it was completely dark now. Just thinking about the Homecoming dance made me want to throw up.

"Killua?" I said, surprised as I noticed he didn't take the turn for the road to the college. "Where are we going?" I straightened up, suddenly very alert.

He kept staring at the windshield. "Somewhere."

I blinked. "Where?"

He spared me a glance. "Be patient, it's a surprise."

I had no idea why I was freaking out all of a sudden. I gulped. I eyed him, my breathing went slightly out of control when he unbuttoned the first button of the white shirt he was wearing under his black blazer and pulled at his tie; he could still drive in perfect balance with only one hand.

"Killua," I said firmly, taking a deep breath. I had to be straight-forward here, we could misunderstand each other.

"Hm?" he asked casually.

"Does this have something to do with shattering my virginity?" I said, my voice slightly hysterical.

There was a pause for an instant in which his face went completely blank until he howled with laughter as he stopped the car.

I bit the inside of my cheek, my face was feeling really hot. "What?" I whisper-shouted in embarrassment. It felt like the racket he made was echoing through the whole city at this time. "Shut up!"

He put a hand of his forehead and exploded with laughter again.

I gritted my teeth, I didn't know what was dominating more; anger or embarrassment.

After what seemed a century, the roars leveled down to small chuckles.

"Shut your mouth already," I muttered.

He cleared his throat. "Don't mind my asking, but why is this the first thing that comes in your mind in this situation?" he asked with a smile in his voice.

I clenched my fists. My novels were definitely getting to my head.

"Since you're refusing to answer this, let me rephrase my question," he suggested. "Do you really think of me as such a person?"

I dropped my gaze to my shoes. I really wanted to die. "No," I mumbled.

"Humour me, but have I ever touched you or even looked at you in a wrong, inappropriate way? Or have I ever done anything that made you feel uncomfortable with yourself or I?" he demanded.

"No," I repeated. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not saying this to make you apologize," he clarified. "I was simply curious."

"No, really; I'm sorry. I just—I—say stuff without thinking sometimes."

"What do you want me to do? Should I take you to school or do you want me to proceed?"

I bit my lip. "Please, go on."

He nodded as he restarted the car and accelerated forward. "What you're worried about; it's not gonna happen."

I couldn't understand exactly what those words meant, where was he leading me? Did he really mean that?

"Anytime soon," he added when he saw the surprised look on my face.

I decided to keep my mouth shut the rest of the way. I couldn't tell where he was taking me, but I don't think we were in town anymore. The silence was so awkward he turned on the radio, to my surprise he started singing along with the song after a while. After about fifteen minutes, he stopped the car.

He got out and opened my door for me, then he opened the door to the back seat and pulled something out. I looked around, I had no idea where we were, it was way too dark to make out anything clearly.

"Come on." He gestured with his hand for me to follow him.

"Killua?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you hold my hand, please?" I requested as I pulled up the hems of my dress. "I can't walk in these heels."

"It's at least a five minute walk," he informed me. "And it's not exactly a straight path, hop on." He gestured with his arms.

Somehow, I was incredibly pleased by his offer.

He placed a hand behind my back and one under my legs and pulled me up. he was carrying something else on his arm, something with a strap or handle maybe, I couldn't clearly see.

I held on to his shoulders. I could tell that these shoes would either kill me or I'd dispose of them as soon as I got home; only one would live.

He walked so steadily, like I weighed 9 pounds instead of 90. I glanced at his face and then at his hair, for a moment I had the urge to touch it, remembering how incredibly soft it was.

"What do you put on your hair?" I blurted out.

"Huh?" he asked surprised.

"I mean—you know it's—really—I mean it looks like it's a lot of work."

"It is," he admitted. "It's a real drag sometimes, especially when it gets wet, gets in my eyes. But, um, I don't really do anything special with it, just wash it I guess."

"Does it go down if you over-grow it?" I kept blabbering.

"I don't know, I've never really tried."

"Do you brush it thoroughly in the morning, have you tried combing it to a side?"

"No—I just pass a hand through it from time to time," he said awkwardly.

"Do you use gel?"

Finally, he raised an eyebrow. "Pardon me, but your sudden interest in my hair is kind of creeping me out, you know."

"Well, I've always found it kind of interesting, I mean look at the colour. I'd make up an excuse on how I was doing this for a project on cultures, but that would be a worse excuse than crap and I'm not really making sense right now, but I'm really nervous and I'm awkward, even when I'm not nervous."

"Nervous?" he asked surprised. "What are you nervous about?"

"It's not specifically something. But you're being so calm and formal and kind of decent, it's freaking me out okay?"

"I'm being formal?"

"Well, yeah. I mean you used words like 'proceed' and 'pardon' and I don't know, I didn't know you were supposed to act like this when you went out with someone, if I did I would have practiced a British accent or something."

He started at me. "I'm gonna put you down now since we're here."

I nodded and tried to catch my balance as soon as he placed me down. "I can't deal with these anymore," I complained as I hurriedly took off the annoying heels. When my feet touched the ground, I realized how soft and crumbly it was. "Is this—" I asked grabbing the crumpled dirt. "—sand?" I looked up and my brain percepted the slow and calming noises of the water. "The beach?" I asked in disbelief. I looked around, but Killua was gone.

I jerked my head to a side when I saw a movement in my peripheral vision, there was a soft glow coming from near. I walked towards it, shoes in hand, supporting the hem of my dress with the other.

"Oh my God." I gasped as I saw the fine picnic cloth spread out on the sand, a picnic basket on one side and Killua lighting up candles, which were placed at every corner.

I just stood there like an idiot unable to do anything except breathing and gaping.

"Are you just gonna stand there?" he asked as he started taking things out of the basket. "Because this took an awful lot of effort to prepare."

I strolled over like a ghost, too emotional to walk properly. "You made this?"

He shrugged. "Most of it; are you hungry?" he asked, offering me a sandwich.

I just stared at his face as he handed it to me. I needed to say something, not just sit there and be sentimentally consumed. "This is amazing," I said choked out in a thick voice.

His eyes widened. "You're not about to cry are you?"

I shook my head and covered my face with my free hand. I attempted to calm myself and took a bite of the sandwich.

"Is it that awful?" he asked as he passed me a soda can.

"It's so good," I mumbled. I couldn't remember the last time anyone other than my parents had done something this thoughtful for me.

"Don't praise too much," he muttered awkwardly, scratching his head.

"Really—this—everything is just so great."

He gave me a sarcastic look. "Are you feeling okay?"

I nodded and rubbed my forehead. "Alright, stop acting indifferent and not meeting my gaze."

He raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You do not do something so huge for a girl and not even look her in the eyes."

He bored his gaze into mine. "Content?"

"Yes, okay, you know what? We have the beach here, the very relaxing sound of the waves, candles, a very starry night and it sounds pretty romantic and all I can think about is how bad I want to kiss you right now."

His expression became surprised. "You—really?" he stuttered, then composed his face and cleared his throat. "I thought about bringing you flowers," he admitted. "But I thought, they'd just wither in the end." He took my hand. "I was thinking—something that would last." He straightened up a bit and looked at me straight in the eyes. "You know how you said I imposed my decisions on you?"

I blinked. "You actually listen to me?"

He rolled his eyes. "_Always_," he emphasized. "I don't want to do that anymore. Sure, you have a screw loose." He shrugged. "But it's your life, so, follow your heart, but take your brain with you," he suggested. "That's why I'll be along the ride; only if you want me to be," he added. "All your choice, if you wanna take a chance." He leaned down and softly kissed my palm and placed a small black velvet box on it.

I lightly pressed the lid until it opened. I couldn't help the gasp that followed. I ran my fingers lovingly on the silver bracelet as I lifted it and the glittering "K" that hung with it sparkled in the moonlight.

"What do you say?" he demanded while he smiled at me. "Can I make you mine?"

I bit my lip and laughed a short-breathed laugh as I held out my wrist and handed him the bracelet. "I don't know; I say, why don't you try?" I challenged.

He fastened it around my wrist and we both examined it. "It looks perfect," he mused. He stood up and offered his hand to me. "Dance with me."

"There's no music," I mumbled.

He retrieved his cell phone from his pocket and tapped a few times on the screen. "Anything else?" he asked as a track started playing.

I rolled my eyes and took his hand. "A disco ball?"

"I think the moon will suffice," he said as he helped me up.

"I can't dance," I admitted as I stood barefoot on the sand.

"Don't worry, it's all in the lead and _luckily_, I happened to be a good dancer." He placed a hand behind my back and took one of mine with the other. Very slowly and very gently he swayed us to a side then raised out intertwined hands and spun me around once and pressed me against his chest.

"Killua, thank you," I whispered, leaning my forehead against his.

"For what?" he asked.

"For bumping into me in the supermarket that day," I confessed. "And then again in the library, I know, maybe it was a mere coincidence, but up until that moment I never thought life held any chance of improvement. Thank you, for dragging me out of that monotone; you make me a better me."

He looked at me for one long moment until he tilted my chin up with his finger, only then it struck me how tall he was, I had never noticed. Very tenderly he pressed his lips against mine and all I could think of in that instant was how lucky I was to know him, touch him, be with him, have him. I closed my eyes and tried to suppress the feeling that this was all evanescent.

**Killua's P.O.V:-**

"Congratulations," she said as she scrolled through her cell phone, nibbling on a candy bar. "You won Homecoming King." Her elbow was leaned against the car door, the bracelet hanging from her wrist as we drove back.

I rolled my eyes. "My life's goal has been achieved, I feel complete," I said sarcastically.

"Aren't you gonna ask who won Queen?"

"Is the excitement all over my face?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's Naomi, just so you know. I'm betting she's pretty devastated right now, not seeing you around. Have you seen the way she looks at you?" she mused.

I shrugged.

"Hey, did my mom know you weren't taking me to the Homecoming dance?"

"Actually, no."

"Okay," she said pensively. "I thought you were both in this together, like two plotting master-minds, I can't believe you betrayed her," she joked.

I rolled my eyes. "Actually, there was no master planning, you were just way too naive to figure things out and you can tell Hana everything, it wasn't a secret or something."

Her eyes widened. "Ha, no. I'm gonna stick to lying, a bit exaggeration will do about how I loved the Homecoming dance; I should ask though, why go through all the trouble of making up plans? You could've just asked me."

"Excuse me? Are you not familiar with yourself?"

"Alright, alright." she raised her hands in surrender.

"About exaggerating, I highly recommend you not to, your mom as well as anybody who was ever a teenager knows that these stupid dances are just an excuse to fuck in the bathrooms in fancy clothing."

She gave me a suspicious look. "Okay, I have one more question."

"You're gonna ask it even if I say no, so go on," I invited.

"Why the beach? You like it there?"

"Well, I do but it didn't have to do anything with my preference, to be honest. You called me in such a desperate tone this morning, I decided to make a change in the plans."

She took my free hand and intertwined our fingers.

I stopped the car in front of her house. "We're here."

She grabbed the shoes she had thrown near her feet and got out. As she reached the pavement, she bent near my window.

"Barefoot?" I observed. "Really?"

She shrugged. "Well, I do feel very Cinderella-like right now." She grinned.

I checked my wrist-watch. "Call it a coincidence, two minutes to midnight."

"Okay, so before today ends, I wanna say it once more; thank you."

"For bumping into you at the supermarket and then again in the library?" I tested.

She chuckled. "For tonight; for everything."

"Well," I processed. "Then you're very welcome. Gestures to show your gratitude are also very welcome," I teased.

"In that case, hand me that," she said, gesturing towards the end of my tie.

"You're not going to strangle me, are you?" I said as I obeyed.

"I could," she admitted as she fiddled with it. "But I was planning on doing this—" she pulled it until our faces were inches apart then crashed her lips with mine.

My hand automatically moved to press against her cheek.

"Acceptable?" she demanded as she broke off after a minute.

"Absolutely," I breathed. "Now in," I ordered, gesturing towards her house with my head. "You'll catch a cold."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow," she said as she walked lazily towards her door.

"Is that an invitation?" I played.

"No, it's an order."

She drunkenly walked to her door step, barefoot with her shoes in her hand, with the other she held the hems of the mesmerizing blue dress that softly hugged all her curves. Her curls bounced gently on her shoulders as she turned to look at me. "Have you ever thought of dyeing your hair?" she mumbled.

I shot her a look.

"Alright, alright." She opened the door and got in, giving me a small wave as she went.

I sat there for a moment glancing pensively at her window as I thought of the mess I had just gotten both of us into.

* * *

_He drummed his fingers on the dashboard as he sat there in the dark, a stripe of a faint street light, revealing only a part of his face. He leaned his head against the car seat and glanced at her window. He smiled_—_that was when he decided; he couldn't live without her, he couldn't lose her. He would do it_—_he would tell her everything, he would. He'd do it the next time he saw her_, _and God knows how much he was already impatient for it, he would tell her. If what she felt for him was even close to what he felt, she'd accept him. He had lied, beyond imagination; but he was sure or more, he hoped that she would want him anyways_—_he hoped._

* * *

**Claire's POV:-**

The first thing I noticed when I woke up in the morning as I looked at myself in my bathroom mirror was that I was different. Not in the sense that I only felt different, which I did, but also physically. If I wasn't mistaken or deluded I looked—prettier, happy in sync with how I felt.

My hair was wavy, instead of it's normal straight do, of course after all the curling from the iron and the pins which took about an hour last night to remove, there was no joking there. My skin, which was usually very pale, no kidding, I was anemic, was a creamy colour. My eyes seemed slightly bigger than usual; if I were honest, my eyes were the only thing I actually liked about myself. I had been getting a proper amount of sleep lately and I might have even overslept today. My lips were slightly swollen, but they were always like this in the morning.

In brief, I felt good—satisfied. In a way, I felt kind of mature, not that I was ever reckless, but just a feeling.

I covered the silver bracelet with my sleeve as I headed down for breakfast; I didn't want the 'ladies' asking any questions.

When I was seated at the table with a bowl of cereal, I glanced at the clock and found that it was past noon.

"So, how was the dance?" asked my nonna from the couch.

I chewed slowly. "Fantastic," I mumbled.

"Did you guys do anything _special_?" ventured my mom as she read her emails.

I narrowed my eyes, I didn't like the way she said 'special'. I shrugged. "Not really."

"Come on," said my nonna tentatively. "Spill the beans."

"No, thank you," I said, trying to act casual.

"We have a right to know, you know."

"Well, I have a right to keep things related to my love-life to myself, if you don't mind."

"So, you're admitting you have a love-life?" my mom said, excited.

My eyes widened. "I—no." I cursed myself inwardly. "I said it without thinking, alright?"

Three quick raps on the door saved me and I was never more grateful to God. My nonna opened it and revealed two tall and sturdy figures.

"Hey," said both Gon and Killua in unison.

Everyone answered with a wave.

"Killua, Gon, breakfast," said my mom, typing on her laptop. I was surprised at how good she was at remembering names, Gon's in this case.

"Oh. No, thank you," excused Killua. "We've already—"

"Oh, honey," interrupted my mom. "I wasn't asking," she clarified.

Both of them exchanged worried looks and obeyed. It was about a minute later that they sat down on the table beside me with cereal bowls. The awkward silence was broken once Gon and my nonna were enthusiastically involved in a conversation about dogs.

"Hey," said Killua, elbowing me.

"Hi," I whispered and we both grinned at each other like idiots. "I didn't know they were such good friends," I said, eyeing Gon and my nonna.

"Oh, well they are; since last night, they both invited him to watch a movie, you know," he informed.

"Did they now?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Well, they did tell me about going out for a movie, but not about Gon going too—oh, hey, I wanna show you something, finish that quickly," I said as I remembered.

When we were both done with our cereal, I took him to my room. "When they went out last night they got these developed on urgent," I said as I showed him the frame on my side table. It was a picture of last night, when I was goofily grinning at him and he was smiling crookedly, both standing by the stairs. "It's nice isn't it?"

He nodded as he sat down on the chair near my study table. "I like it." There was a small pause. "I need to talk to you," he confessed.

I walked to him and met his gaze. "Are you okay?" I asked placing a hand on his cheek.

"Yes," he assured. "Everything's fine," he said as he seated me on his lap.

"Alright, then talk to me," I encouraged.

He smiled weakly. "I was thinking, a walk maybe?"

"Of course," I said as we both stood up.

"Before we go, I want to ask you something."

I nodded. "What is it?"

"Do you trust me?" he asked very much alert.

"What kind of question is that? I do—Killua you're worrying me," I admitted.

He shook his head. "No, please relax, walk with me, we'll talk."

We both headed downstairs, I was a bit freaked out, I had never seen Killua talk like this before. We were almost at the door when the wireless rang. "I'll get it," I announced. "Just a moment." I smiled at Killua and he nodded. "Yes?" I answered as I picked up.

"Is this Mr. Hachiro Ajibana's house?" demanded the man from the other line.

"Yes, this is his daughter speaking," I said confused, my smile slowly fading.

There was a small pause. "I'm sorry to inform this to you, ma'am," excused the stranger, "but your father is dead."

_Tragedies, destruction; an endless cycle,_

_oblivious to when they might shoot another rifle._


	14. Remorse

Hi guys! I'm baaackk to annoy the life out of you. So, this chapter is kind of sad but not like _really_ sad and I really hope you enjoy it. Anyway, I didn't reply to any of reviews because I'm an awful person and everyone was devastated over what I did to Hachiro, well I'm sorry but that _really_ needed to happen and your reviews were so amazing, know that I appreciate each and everyone of you and your sweet words are what makes this chaotic college life bearable; you guys are way too awesome. Thanks to both Kimi and Lani who are the most amazing people I know, I love you all almost as much as food, _almost_. Now, quit reading this nonsense and dig in!

Chapter: 14

* * *

**"Remorse."**

* * *

_Life_. I can guarantee that if you ask people to define it, they'll all give you different answers. Some will call it a journey, some will call it a challenge and others will tell you it's a punishment. It all depends on perception, circumstances, and experiences, but if you look closely each and everything is inter-connected in a way that's maybe just a bit too complex for us to understand.

Then, if you ask someone, what is pain? I'm sure they'll start describing a series of physical records and they might even give you a handful of examples. But no,thatis not pain.

_Pain_ is not when you trip on the pavement and get your knee scraped; pain is not when you get a splinter in your finger; pain is not when you cut your wrist and it starts bleeding. No—that is not pain.

Pain is when you stand there, helplessly, among a crowd in front of your father's grave; painis when your legs give out and the world seems too distant; painis when you wish that the rain that's pouring over you were a poison—an acid, strong enough to dissolve you, burn you, end you. _Pain, agony, hurt, suffering, torment, torture, despair, misery, disorientation—numbness._

The Southernpiece Auction is the world's largest auction that is held annually, spanning 5 days from the 6th to the 10th of September in Yorknew City by Southernpiece auction house; this year, it was extended until the end of the month.

About five years ago, the Zoldycks were hired to take down the leader of the Spiders by the Ten Dons during the time of the auction. But at that exact time yet another member of the same family was hired to execute the Dons themselves; call it luck or a game of destiny or maybe a race whose outcome changed everything.

This year the Zoldycks had attacked yet again, the annual auction at the specific end. Aftermath: about more than ten thousand people were killed; one of them being, the man who raised me. The auction house was completely and utterly destroyed, wasted. Every single thing was burned, and all that was left—the ashes. The blood, the corpses, even death—gone.

But the worst thing of them all, was that people couldn't help, couldn't control the delusion that they had painted as hope, that spread through them. What if—their loved ones were still alive? What if—they somehow managed to save themselves? There were no bodies to prove the death, what if—?

What if—the month of _Septembe_r wasn't as ominous as I had always thought? Well, it was; it was.

_September_—the month I had always dreaded. September—the month that changed my life. The most beautiful month of my whole existence, the month in which I had ever truly felt alive, it was my month then why did the Zoldycks have to take it over? The month in which I had lost everything, September. There was nothing left—nothing left.

* * *

_There was a loud roar of the lightening as the wind forced the windows open, splattering inside a great deal of rain. The brown haired man quickly rushed to the site and forced the windowpane back until it shut._

_The man dried off the raindrops from the lenses of his spectacles with the hem of his shirt and adjusted them back into their place. His head jerked to a side when he saw a slight movement in his peripheral vision. "Claire?" he whispered as he saw the figure leaned against the door._

_The eleven year old girl sheepishly smiled at him._

_The man beamed back. "Let me guess," he suggested. "Couldn't sleep, again," he added perkily._

_She bit her lip._

_"What's wrong?" he asked concerned, gesturing for her to sit._

_She slowly walked in and seated herself on the club chair. "Dad," she mumbled staring at her feet._

_He could see the tender expression on her face in the dim light of the lamp. "Yes?"_

_"Only then, did she meet his gaze, a million questions lingering in her brown irises but she phrased only one. "What is remorse?"_

**Killua's POV:-**

_October_, the cold and thin sheet of ice as it settled down on every existence. The frosty air, the misty outlook; nothing predicted well, nothing was well.

I made my way down the pavement, my hands deep in my pockets as myriads and myriads of unknown thoughts scattered in my brain. I walked to her door, my hand lacking just enough strength to reach it. As I ordered my muscles to move, I froze and the image of her crumpled form hit my mind like a thousand needles piercing in my skin.

All at once, the door opened as she rushed out. Her gaze met mine and lingered there, unexpected, distant, until she blinked once and turned, rushing forward.

"Where are you going?" I demanded immediately.

She didn't answer, she just kept pacing quickly as I followed and stopped near the silver car parked in her porch. She grabbed a pair of car keys from her pocket and began fumbling with them until they escaped her hold and fell to the ground.

I beat her to the chase of retrieving them.

"Give them back," she ordered, her voice slightly trembling.

"No," I retorted. "What are you doing?"

She clenched her fists. "Give those back, Killua."

"Where the hell are you going?"

"That's none of your business," she shot back. "Give me the keys."

I drowned the keys in my pocket and glared at her. "Get back inside."

"Who said I took orders from you?"

I swiftly grabbed her wrists and held her against me as I dragged her back to the entrance.

"Let go!" she said hesitantly as she struggled. "Let me go! Killua, get away from me!"

I pushed the door open with my leg as I forced her inside.

"NO!" she shouted. "NO!"

"Listen to me," I whispered.

"NO! LET ME GO!" She hit me in the abdomen with her elbow.

Her mother sped to the hallway as she gasped. "Claire, honey, please, it's—alright. Please—" she begged.

"It's okay," I assured her. "I got her."

She covered her face with her hands as silent tears escaped her and nodded.

"KILLUA, NO! I NEED TO GO!" she shrieked.

I wrestled her up the stairs and got her in her room.

"KILLUA! MY DAD! He's fine," she breathed, her voice breaking. "I need to go to him, he needs me—he's calling me—PLEASE!" she pleaded desperately as I sat her on her bed.

"Shh," I soothed as I held her. "Everything is going to be fine."

"No—" she battled through defeated sobs, barely making out words. "Please, Killua." Her eyes welled up and tears started streaming down.

"Claire." I gently stroked her hair. "Listen to me, please calm down."

She shivered violently then gave up as she melted against my chest. She leaned there, unmoving until she trembled again and wept.

"It's okay," I lied, trying to comfort her. "Shh."

"_The Zoldycks_," she said with unmistakable loathing in her voice.

I froze, every muscle in my body suddenly feeling very heavy.

"Those _bastards,_they killed him." She was shaking continuously now, or maybe it was me. "I hate them," she spoke weakly. "I hate them, I—" She dropped her head in my lap unable to continue.

It could have been centuries that she sat there, crying, draining herself empty until she finally fell asleep. It was very cold, too cold now. I carefully shifted her head on her pillow and got off her bed.

"Don't go," she begged as she caught my hand. "Please—" she sighed. "_Stay_."

I met her broken gaze and it shattered me, I needed solitude, I needed to get my thoughts into place, I needed—

"Please," she reiterated.

I attempted to smile at her. "I'm not going anywhere," I promised as I sat next to her. "I'll be right here; everything is going to be okay." I sighed as I kissed her hair. Nothing was going to be okay from now on.

* * *

_"Remorse?" repeated the man, astonished, looking deep into the little girl's eyes_

_She nodded, her curious gaze penetrating within him._

_"Remorse is—guilt, repentance for a committed sin, a wrongdoing."_

_"Is it possible," she questioned, her thoughts seeming too far for him to grasp, "To feel remorse for a sin you have not yet committed, just—considered?" she whispered the words as if they were forbidden._

_The man looked at her, astonished. He had always been amazed by her, her words and her actions always seemed to surprise him somehow. "Well," he said pensively, "I suppose that is possible," he agreed. "But do you know what?"_

_She blinked. "What?"_

_"It would take a person with great morals and a great soul to feel remorse of such kind."_

She stood there, staring into the far off distance, the city beneath her; her hair waving with the wind. She sighed and though it was barely audible it bore so much pain. "I have thought about it, you know?" she spoke after a while. "_Suicide_."

I looked at her wide-eyed, my teeth gritting, my body feeling tight.

"Just one—leap," she whispered looking down. "And a rush, leaving it all behind you. Maybe—" she considered. "—just one shot, as you sink into an eternal sleep. One cut, and all the nightmares escape your veins, forever. But you know what stops me every time?" she asked, turning to look at me.

I shut my eyes, the rage spreading all over me.

"It's the remorse," she confessed. "I promised him that I'd take care of mom—I promised him. I owe him so much, just the thought of betraying him makes me—" she stopped.

I sighed walking closer to her. "We came here a month ago and you told me that it's impossible to live in such a tragic world without hope," I reminded placing my hand on her shoulder. "I believed in you, I can't believe you stopped."

She shook her head, her eyes completely vacant. "It's a lie," she revealed effortlessly. "I can't remember how it feels like—to feel. It's so cold."

I held her against me, too weak to be able to lie to her any further. My will was broken and my soul burned into ashes. It was _October_, the coldest month of the year.

**Claire's POV:-**

**3 months later.**

"These are for before you go to bed," said Killua as he tossed the bottle of pills closer to me. "And _these_," he emphasized, carefully reading the paper chit. "Are for before any meal."

"Thanks." I sighed, leaning my head against the head board.

"Now, I'm gonna go home and change, alright?" he said as he got off the bed.

I immediately straightened. "Will you be back?" I quickly inquired.

"Of course," he promised as he put on his shoes. "I can't go out in the same clothes, do you have any idea what the neighbours will think?" he joked.

"Do you promise?"

He looked up at me. "Yes, I'll be back in fifteen minutes, I promise."

"Okay," I said as I attempted to calm down.

"You have to make me a promise in return."

"What?"

"Promise me you'll have lunch," he said, checking his phone.

I sighed. "I promise."

"Hmm," he said pensively. "You know, what about I take you to lunch?" he proposed.

I twiddled with my thumbs. "Well," I mumbled. "I was—planning on going to the—cemetery today so, yeah—after that?" I suggested.

"Sure, but don't forget an umbrella," he said, looking out the window.

"Yeah." I sighed. "Nothing a little rain can't ruin."

He once again gave me one of those sad smiles that didn't reach his eyes. It had been like this for a while now, roughly three months I'd say. He'd talk to me and be with me but it seemed as if his mind was really far away—distant. Of course, I couldn't exactly comment on that since my mind had also gone on a voyage of its own.

It was routine now to blank out at times but at times, even though I was being an asshole for even thinking it after giving everyone around me hell, I was still incredibly frustrated at the way everyone was treating me—forced conversations, fake smiles and not to mention the meetings with the 'nice consulting lady' as they called her. Okay, I might have gone crazy, but not yet crazy enough to not know that I was signed for appointments with a psychiatrist and it was fine, I didn't mind. I could spend lying to a stranger two hours per day, no problem, but the real drag was that the lady was incredibly perceptive. I barely ever let my emotions slip, I had never even talked about the real things but she always seemed to figure out what was going on."Natasha" as she told me to call her seemed to notice each and everything, now I did suspect she got a little extra info from my mom but nevertheless, she surprised me.

Alright, so, the first months was completely...inferno—hell, call it whatever and yes, I did have a breakdown but I had to admit I was a lot better now; not perfectly fine but—better.

According to Natasha it was '_shock_' for the first month, '_slowly heading towards recovery' _in the second and third and now, on the beginning of the fourth month she had finally identified what was going on with me.

"_Fear_," she stated. She couldn't exactly tell what I was afraid of but it was definitely fear, she was sure of it.

I had blabbered out '_nightmares_', to lead her off a different path and it had seemed to work; it was a lie though 'cause I barely slept so, no nightmares, well not anymore after the first few days.

Now, what I hadn't told Natasha, or anyone else for that matter, was that, yes, I was afraid, but I bet that even if I had petition running around in town, nobody could guess what it was about. Even I, who knew myself for more than 17 years found it peculiar. It wasn't the fear of dark, sounds, or cries; no.

I was terrified of letting Killua anywhere out of my sight, if I had a hold of him, even better. He had spent every single night in the past three months at my place and it really had to be that way, I was psychotic.

I did have a mental conversation with Natasha in my brain about the real problem and what I had come up with was, "You're afraid that the people who are dear to you might—leave. Of course, this might be a natural response of the brain to deal with—what you're dealing with right now. The rest of your family is always near you, you have this—urge to keep him safe, keep him next to you."

Retort to my inner psychiatrist, I did not have the 'urge' to have my mom or my nonna sleep next to me every night, that was only him. Bottom line, dead end, and I was going crazier by the second.

"Claire?" said Killua, waving a hand in front of my face.

"Y-yeah?" I stuttered, getting back to reality.

"Where are you at?"

"Sorry—I must have spaced out,_ again_," I added.

He raised an eyebrow and leaned closer. "No spacing out for the next hour, you have a grandmother you need to see off and an incredibly hot boyfriend to attend to."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't exactly have a button to control it," I informed as I kissed him briefly. "Fifteen minutes," I mumbled.

"Are you kidding me?" he said frustrated. "That didn't even last a second."

"Shut up," I said, unable to help the smile that formed itself on my face. "Fifteen minutes," I repeated.

"Roger that, ma'am, or should I say, _Rambo_?" he poked.

I gave him a look.

"Ma'am it is." Saying that, he disappeared out the window, leaving me scratching my palms out of anticipation.

My nonna was leaving today, I already had expected that she'd try to lure me along but what I didn't expect was how persistent my mother was being on the idea, I must've really fucked up these days.

"I'm not going anywhere," I announced. "Besides, I'm perfectly—I'm okay now."

"Honey, you need a break from all of this; the climate Sendai is amazing, you'll—love it there," pushed my tired looking, four months pregnant mother. She attempted to smile at me, but the deep dark circles under her eyes made it look completely gloomy.

I sighed. "Mom, I can't—"_leave Killua. _"—go from here, I promise I'll start going back to school from the next week, I'm feeling so much better now, I promise." Did I mention I had skipped a month and a half worth of college before the Christmas and New Year's vacations?

The rest of the conversation was predictably cliché and I was sort of empty on what happened afterward. All I knew was that Killua and I had dropped off my nonna to the airport before we entered the fragile looking gates of the graveyard.

The path was so familiar now I didn't even have to concentrate, my feet would do the work. We stopped in front of the gravestone marked with his name. I walked closer and gently placed the flowers in my hand in front of it. It was never pleasant and you never got used to it, but it kind of became easier to bear; easier than the days I would come here and shout at him for how stupid he had been to get himself killed and leave me and my mom stranded like this. No, not easier, maybe more tolerable.

I turned to Killua and he gave me a short nod before he held his hand out for me. "Walk with me," he invited.

"I don't know if I'm being superstitious or plain stupid," I said as I took his hand and strode forward. "But the last time you said that—didn't exactly—leave behind pleasant memories."

"I'd say plain stupid," he muttered as he led me to the wooden bench near a huge, leafless alder tree. "We should give each moment a new chance."

I bit my lip. "I'm empty, no chances left—nothing."

"Because that is what you choose to believe; you know it's incredibly selfish of you to view yourself as the only victim."

"What do you mean?" I said, looking up at him.

"There are people around you, who act strong for you and you take them for granted; they might be even more wounded than you but they don't let it show, for you. Life is equally hard for everyone, even if some people try to demonstrate the contrary."

"Really? And what exactly did you endure?" I shot back.

"I'm not talking about myself," he clarified. "Look at Hana and your grandmother, have you ever even considered what they went through or might still are going through? They're holding on for you,even if it hurts."

"Well I'm sorry that it's not that easy for me to get over this, I'm _trying_ as hard as I can. I can't just forget yesterday and move on," I defended.

He glared at me. "You know what your problem is?" he finally burst out. "You're afraid of the future. You're tormented by what's gonna happen next; you just can't seem to get that what is over is over. You're holding on to the past, you're afraid that what has already happened is gonna happen again. You're tortured by the past and horrified by the future; have you ever given the present any thought? Of course not, there's no place left for that. You just can't seem to grasp the concept that the past can't be changed and the future can't be controlled," he emphasized, boring his gaze into mine. "You should learn to live with the flow; what has happened and what's gonna happen doesn't matter, all that matters is right now." He placed a hand on my shoulder. "Look at that tree," he said, gesturing towards the alder. "If it stopped blooming over and over again just by the thought that it's leaves have shed a million times and it's gonna happen a million times more; trust me Claire, this world would be a very sad place. You need to learn to live for now, seize the moment,because you only get one shot at everything. Don't waste it."

* * *

_She shielded her eyes with her arm from the prickling light. The silhouette walking towards her in the obscure tunnel was barely visible to her._

_"It's alright," comforted the familiar voice._

_The brunette was suddenly alert at the sound. "Dad?" she confirmed as she straightened._

_The man extended his arms out for her and she rushed into them before even making a conscious decision to do so._

_"You're alright—you're here, dad; I thought—" she breathed. "—you're here, you're fine."_

_The man didn't answer he simply leaned down to press his lips to her forehead._

_"Dad?" she whimpered as reality struck her once more. "You're leaving aren't you—aren't you?"_

_He held her tightly against him. "Yes," he answered eventually._

_She dug her nails in her palms, tight. "Please—" she began but couldn't seem to continue._

_The brown haired man tilted her chin up and smiled. "Because I know, my daughter is brave and strong, she has a beautiful soul and she won't only hold on for herself but also for everyone she loves."_

_She shook her head. "I—I can't—"_

_"Honey, you can," he assured her, stroking her hair. "You're ready."_

_"To live without you?" she demanded in disbelief._

_"To be your own person, you're ready."_

_"I need you dad—" her voice broke as she realized nothing she would say would convince him. She sighed and met his gaze as she took a deep breath. "Did it hurt? Dying, did it hurt?"_

_He nodded. "It hurt," he admitted. "But after a while it all went numb."_

_She sighed._

_"Now close your eyes," instructed the man._

_She obeyed, her hands slightly trembling as he held them._

_"When you wake up, you will be stronger; you will let go even if it hurts. Tomorrow, you will see life again and you'll grasp it as tight as you can because you only get that chance once, alright?"_

_She nodded, holding her breath._

_Just before she felt it all vanish she heard a low whisper, "Tell Hana I love her."_

* * *

I couldn't help the tears that started streaming out. For me, life was always a misconception. That was always how I saw it, moving, never still. That's what life was. It was a journey, and sometimes it might get out of hand, sometimes it makes you wanna quit. Live it now, before it becomes a memory. Killua was right, that's why we should, seize the moment.

"I'm sorry," I said as I pressed my forehead against his chest. "I'm sorry for fucking up so huge. I—I've been a jerk and I've hurt you, my mom, I—it hurts."

He placed a hand on my back. "The pain will slowly fade," he promised.

"I wish—I could just turn it off for just a second or maybe not be conscious enough to feel it."

"You know what?" said Killua. "Get your mind off of things; be reckless, do things that might be wrong. You've been through a lot so try doing things you've never done before, start acting like a teenager."

**Killua's POV:-**

We walked down the sidewalk, the flickering street lights dimly illuminating the path. I knew what frustration was, I could easily decipher irritation, it was normal human behavior to be upset or disturbed and it was only fair to let yourself off the hook but this—

"_Wee_!" she squeaked as she ran ahead of us. "I'm superman!"

Gon threw me another skeptical look. "Seriously?"

I raised my hand in defence. "She was the one who said she needed to get things off her mind."

He looked ahead at her as she stumbled on the pavement and then again at me. "How much did she drink exactly?"

We just stared at each other silently. "_Yeah_," I said, scratching my head. "I sort of lost count after the fourth glass."

He gaped at me in disbelief. "Killua, I honestly can't believe—"

"_HEY_!" she shouted as she sped towards us, flapping her arms around. "What are you two whispering like old fucked up ladies?"

Again, my gaze met Gon's.

"_Tonight_," she mumbled, taking an unbalanced step forward and nearly tripping until I caught her arm. "I am—" She moved her finger around, pointing in various directions. "—going to be," she paused looking at both of us. "_Reckless_," she whispered. "I am going to!" she shouted, raising her hands. "Get laid," she announced. "I'm going to wake up in somebody else's bed and—" she snapped her fingers in front of my face. "—not remember anything but then I'll go home and then I'm gonna do it all over again and again and again and again..."

I tuned her out and spared Gon a glance who looked incredibly creeped out.

"_You_," she said, grabbing Gon's face all of a sudden. "You are one of those innocent boys who eat marshmallows at campfires." She howled with laughter. "I bet you've never even considered taking a step out of Goodville, have you?" She covered her face with her hands. "Totally virgin!" her voice seemed to echo throughout the block.

Gon's face turned a very deep shade of red as he looked down.

She parted her fingers and peeked at me. "But _you_." She stood in front of me. "Oh, you are a _playboy_," she accused, narrowing her eyes. "How many victims, huh? Five? Ten? Fifty?" She dropped her arms to her sides. "But, hey. Who wouldn't be with an ass like that? You're a hot guy," she stated. "Do what you have to do—" Her legs gave out and she collapsed in my arms.

"Is she unconscious?" asked Gon, looking at her worriedly.

"I think so; I'll take her home, alright?"

He nodded and I smiled at him apologetically. "You know she was drunk, right? She was just bluffing."

He grinned back at me. "I know, but I do stuff too, okay? I drink and—"

I looked at him sarcastically. "Let me guess, carbonated carrot juice? Or sweet tomato paste?"

"Shut up," he said with a smile in his voice as he waved at me and walked in the opposite direction until his figure faded completely.

I carried her noiselessly to her house and stopped by the bald cherry tree.

"I like dogs," she said, lifting her head up. "They're soft and loyal and they're noses are always wet and they smell like biscuits gone bad."

I stared at her. "Can you just shut up for one second?" I asked as I tried to grab the closest branch.

"NO! I LIKE CHEESE!" she shouted.

My eyes widened. "Claire, shh!" I said, looking around. "If you stop talking for just one minute I'll give you a candy bar, okay?"

She blinked. "I'm drunk, not stupid," she informed me.

I rolled my eyes. "Alright, I'll give you the whole box."

She grinned goofily. "Okay," she whispered.

I threw her on my shoulder and quickly jumped up. Very carefully, I helped her in through the window.

She ran inside and plopped on her bed, closing her eyes.

I went and sat beside her. "You are one hell of a handful," I said, removing her hair from her face.

She shifted, raising her head and bore her gaze into mine.

"What?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She quickly leaned in and kissed me. "I _really_ wanted to do that," she said happily as she threw herself back.

I stared at her in surprise.

"You know what?" she mumbled as she shut her eyes again. "Your girlfriend is _really_ lucky."

_Despair and chaos are embedded to life;_

_if you didn't have a little rain, would you ever truly feel alive?_


	15. Oblivious

I am _back_ after _quite_ a long break. Sorry if I had you waiting, I sort of lost all inspiration to write in the past three months for some reason, but, at last this chapter is complete and I _really_ hope you like it! Thank you, thank you so very much for your amazing reviews that always make my day; A _huge_ thanks to both of my beta-readers, Kimi is super-strict with grammar so, she basically polishes the chapters until there aren't even the tiniest of mistakes (let's face it, she's a life-saver) Now, about the chapter, this is where the story is starting to take a serious turn and I'm sure you can guess very well that the next chapter won't be very pleasing... anyway, there is a lot of switching between the Povs of both the characters, just to explain it all better, plus there are two pieces of poetry in this chapter, just to add a bit to the effect. Well, here goes.

Chapter: 15

* * *

**"Oblivious."**

* * *

_His skin the shade of autumn,_

_His eyes the colour of spring,_

_His lips the hue of blossom;_

_His love as tempting as sin._

_His heart the frost of winter,_

_His smile of summer rays,_

_His words like piercing splinters;_

_His promises— the seasons change._

* * *

_The brunette fidgeted needlessly with the hood of her jacket until she simply decided to slide her hands into her pockets. The feeble rays of the sun in the winter sky were a sad sight to see. Her nails involuntarily dug in her palms, forcing her to release them again as if they would melt if she kept them in her pockets any longer; it was hard to explain, but recently, she couldn't understand what to do with her hands— where to keep them._

_A soft groan escaped her lips as she walked down towards the end of the bridge. For some reason, her veins felt cold; if she didn't know it wasn't humanly possible to survive without any blood in your body, she would be sure there wasn't anything flowing inside her. Removing a dark lock of hair from her face she nervously rubbed her palm on her jeans._

_There was a thick layer of snow deposited on the cement and a fine icy sheet on the metallic bars she passed by. She had always hated the snow because of the numbness it left behind: a reason she had often been referred to as an 'old soul.' Of course, who possibly didn't like the snow fall?_

_One soft, chilly breeze caressed her cheek and the seventeen-year-old found herself shivering before she made a conscious decision to do so. The snow didn't only hide the fallen leaves of autumn, and the wind, it carried more than just the broken souls, lies, and sins._

_The brown-eyed girl's pensive mind immediately became alert as her shoulder hit a firm surface, causing her boot to slip on the frozen ground— she could've sworn that she'd at least break an arm, but she felt a strong grip on her elbow pull her upward and steady her. It took her approximately three seconds to make sense of the occurred events as she was taken aback by the deep set of sapphire-blue eyes staring at her. Penetrating, his eyes were so penetrating, she thought as she gazed at the obscure ocean before her— so many secrets, unspoken words, it felt like if she got an inch closer, he would read her mind._

_She blinked, regaining consciousness of her peculiar actions: gazing into a stranger's eyes. She was far from sane. Her sight darted sideways and she found herself examining his features carefully: hair as fair as the greyish frost, almost silver, nearly having a luster, which contrasted perfectly with the black of his clothing. Her muscles tensed instantly, it felt like a thousand memories were flooding into her brain, memories she couldn't access. It felt like— like she knew him from somewhere, maybe from a very long time ago or from another life— did he know her? There was a word prickling right at the tip of her tongue; she couldn't recall it._

_The handsome stranger raised a silver eyebrow and gave her an odd look before releasing her arm; it was then that she realized he was holding onto her all this time. Had it been a moment? Or a century? Had he been feeling what she felt? For a second, she had the urge to say something, but in the same instant she realized it would be incredibly strange to ask an unknown person whether they had seen each other before._

_The boy took a step back and then sauntered opposite to where she stood until she could no longer him in her peripheral vision. She touched the cold bars, her brain half numb, and then as fast as a bullet the word hit her: _Serendipity_._

_She immediately turned around, not knowing what she would do next. She froze. The street was as empty as it should be at six a.m Sunday morning. There was nothing but the fog; it was odd— was she just about to call out to that boy? And then she found herself wondering whether the prior event was a mere fragment of her imagination. She took a deep breath; of course she must have been hallucinating, after all, he did seem more like a character from a movie than a lonely boy walking up the streets at this time. Of course._

_The girl stood there in deep thought for a moment until she turned around and walked away shaking her head at her brain's wild creations. But what she didn't know was that sometimes more than one broken soul can find refuge in the isolated cold._

* * *

I woke up in the morning with weird incomprehensible dreams roaming in my brain, a minor memory loss from the previous night due to a wild drinking spree and a severe headache, not to mention my small head injury because I actually jerked myself awake, hitting my skull on the headboard.

Sometimes, I wished people were actually born with manuals on how they were supposed to spend their lives or, at least, I wish someone had come up with an ultimate philosophy to exist without regrets since that was always what ate me up in the end—the regrets and guilt.

If you asked my boyfriend, or my best friend, or my advisor who all happen to be the same person, as a matter of fact, he'd say: "_Screw life, live as you please and seize the moment_." And if I'd mention the life guide thing to him he'd definitely say: "_Where's the fun in that_?"

Even if I had Googled whether it was normal to deliberately come up with questions and then answer them yourself from your man's perspective, I wouldn't get one single result and that was just sad—even for me. I shook my head as I stood in front of the mirror and looked at my desiccated form. I attempted all of the activities that could be done to kill time in a bathroom on a Sunday at 5 a.m. I shaved my legs twice and took a long shower.

At last, I wrapped a towel around myself and wondered if it was too late to fall asleep again. I walked out, planning on drying my dripping hair when a figure in my peripheral vision startled me and I involuntarily jumped back.

"OH MY GOD, KILLUA!" I nearly shouted.

His eyes widened as he saw me and his mouth fell open.

I ran back inside the bathroom as I realized I was almost bare. "What the _hell_ is wrong with you?" I whisper-shouted as I pulled on a shirt.

"Just cover yourself, _please_," he begged.

I took a deep breath as I completely got out of the restroom.

"You could've dressed before coming out of the bathroom."

I glared at him. "Oh, I'm sorry, next time I'll be cautious enough to consider that an ass-hole might be sitting on my bed," I retorted as I sat down next to him.

I noticed he was blushing and didn't meet my eyes.

"It's not like you actually— saw anything," I mumbled.

When he didn't answer, I simply rolled my eyes. "How did you know I was awake at this time?"

He shrugged. "I didn't."

I stared at him. "Killua?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you watch me sleep?"

"No, I listen to you talk in your sleep," he clarified, as if that was so much more acceptable.

I gaped at him. "Honestly? That's the creepiest thing that I've ever heard."

"Well, mostly, you're just saying random things I have no idea about but lately you talk about me a lot; I wonder what sort of weird dreams you have."

"What the—" I face-palmed. "Okay, you know what? I'm locking my window before going to bed from now on."

He took my hand and pulled me closer. "Why don't you just say it," he asked moving his lips to my neck.

"Say what?" I asked placing the back of my head on his shoulder.

"That you're so obsessed, you've even started dreaming about me."

I just rolled my eyes, shifting my wet hair to a side as he lifted my shirt from my shoulder and started kissing down the length of my arm. "I was high last night, so it was acceptable to dream about strange things like you."

"High is an understatement." He turned me around and pushed me back until he was on top of me, both his hands on the side of my face.

I sighed, recalling the glimpses of the previous night that were in my memory. "Does Gon hate me?"

He put his lips on mine and I felt the grin he was suppressing.

"I didn't mean it," I defended, kicking his knee when he chuckled. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything and he's Gon, you know he can't hate anyone."

"I still feel—" I started confessing when the door suddenly opened and my mom entered.

"Honey—" she began, but she stopped at mid-syllable when she saw the position we both were in.

Killua and I straightened immediately and I removed my dripping hair from one side of my face.

"I heard— you were awake so I thought— breakfast," she concluded, walking out.

We both sighed as she left.

Killua got off the bed and put on his shoes.

"You're not staying?"

He shook his head. "I have a group assignment that, _unfortunately_, I can't put off any longer."

"Oh, well— I'm going to school tomorrow too," I announced as I fidgeted with my fingers.

"Really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded. "I'll try to do some catching up today."

He got down on his knee and pecked my lips twice. "That's great," he encouraged, smiling that crooked smile that always had me holding my breath.

After he jumped out the window, I pulled on some sweats and walked downstairs where my mom was checking her e-mails with a coffee mug in her hand.

I grabbed my usual cereal and sat down on the couch beside her. Since my mom hadn't started talking yet, I knew there was something serious she wanted to say. I concentrated on chewing, knowing that she would get to it soon enough.

"Claire," she addressed after a few minutes.

"Yeah?" I answered as casually as possible.

"Honey," she paused as if to find the right words. "Were you drunk last night?" she inquired.

My eyes widened as I shifted my legs.

"I heard you shout outside and I saw Killua with you."

I bit my lip, looking down.

"_Honey_, I know you're a teenager and you know that I've never set any rules or limitations for you; it's okay to be reckless at you age and—" she stuttered. "I know you've always been very responsible, I mean— I'm always there for you, open to hearing whatever you have to say. I was a very irresponsible teenager and I'll admit I've done things I still regret and—you're _nothing _like me, I know but— what I'm trying to say is, take it slowly and safely— do you really wanna hand up having children at this age? Things seem a lot..." she continued.

I coughed as I choked on my food. "What?" I asked, astonished, as I caught my breath. "Mom, are you giving me the _safe-sex _lecture?"

"Well, I don't—"

"No, no, no, no, no." I gestured with one hand. "You don't have to worry because nothing like that has happened, neither dangerous nor safe," I clarified.

"I know, you both— wait, what?" she demanded with her eyes wide-open.

I took a deep breath. I was so glad in that moment that Killua had decided to leave, I dreaded just the thought of his reaction to all of this. "Mom, I'm a virgin," I emphasized.

She blinked. "But—you two, you've been together for— so many months and you're always like—"

"We're always like what?"

She crossed her fingers together. "Like_ this_." She sounded genuinely surprised.

I rolled my eyes. "Now that's a bit of an exaggeration mom—"

"Claire, have you seen the way you two even _sit_ together?"

"What way?"

"You always have one leg over his and he has his hand placed on your knee, even when you're both on your phones. It's like you have this insane need to touch each other even when you're not aware of it—I thought, _wow_." She shook her head a little.

I sighed, suddenly losing my appetite. "Killua's not— like that, it isn't like that—_yet_," I mumbled, recalling his words from the Homecoming night.

"You know you can always talk to me, right?" she added giving me a gentle smile. "About anything."

I knew exactly where she was going now; lately, trying to get me to talk it out was the only thing everyone around me was trying to do. Natasha had me talking nonsense for two hours daily, my nonna called every now and then to have me talk about just anything at all. Mr. Domoto showed up last week asking me to take a walk around the block and even he, who sucked with words, tried his best to have forced conversations until I fell on the pavement and grazed my elbow; that shut him up for good, he knew it was his fault: he had me walking and talking at the same time.

The only person that didn't have to push me to talk was Killua, of course with him with mouth automatically set on the first gear, honestly I couldn't recognize myself when I was with him. My mom always made sure we had every meal together so that she could catch up on whatever I was going through.

I couldn't help the small smile that crept on my face, along with a feeling of utter disgust for myself. Every individual in my life right now was making me their priority, including myself.

"Claire, are you crying?" my mom asked, surprised.

I blinked, feeling my wet eyelashes, and rubbed my palm over cheek unable to help the nervous laugh that followed. "How do you do it, mom? How do you cope with me?"

"What are you talking about?" She took my hand. "You know you're the best anyone could ask for."

"I'm not," I said as fresh tears fell down, I couldn't stop beaming for some reason. "That's the thing mom, I'm not." I shook my head. "What have you _not_ given me? I have your support in all the ways there are, I've always gotten whatever I've asked for, you and dad have always put me first, and despite all that, if I—I'm not doing stuff I'm not supposed to do, that doesn't make me great, it makes me average," I admitted. "I'm as average as average gets."

She shook her head. "Honey—"

"You know what the problem with me is? I think other people don't have feelings, I'm _always_ the victim," I chortled, rubbing my forehead. "I'm a jerk and you should stop telling me otherwise. I've done all the crying and talking I needed to get it all out of my system, now all I need to do is listen. It's your turn to talk mom, because if I'm hurting like hell then I don't wanna imagine what you're holding in."

Silent tears fell on her face as she covered it, sobbing.

I pressed my face to her hand.

"I met your dad when I was sixteen," she disclosed with her trembling voice. "He hit me on the face with a basketball during gym class by accident, I hated him so _damn _much," she laughed in a hoarse whisper. "I used to glare at him in the halls every day when we passed by each other and I don't have any idea how or when I fell for him. We were complete opposites, he was _such_ a nerd but there was just something about him I— I never felt like that before with _any_ guy." She closed her eyes and gave me a sad smile. "That _idiot_," she said to herself. "You know, I knew when he was about to propose and I had perfectly prepared my reaction but he choked on his drink and it all went wrong— I had to complete his words for him, it was the most _disastrous_ thing ever, but for some reason I knew in that moment that I was never letting go of him, _ever_." She paused and wiped her face with her hands. "He was so happy the day you came home and—he was so happy when we found out about this baby, but— he'll never get to see it—" her voice broke and she paused to take a deep breath. "So, _no_." She shook her head. "You're not average Claire." She placed both of her hands on my shoulders. "You are your father's daughter and you are_ just _like him and your father wasn't average, he was _extraordinary_." She took a deep breath. "And so are _you_."

**Killua's P.O.V:-**

For the past half an hour, I had been impatiently tapping my fingers on the table. I looked over at Gon who sat with his head in his hands, his eyes shut in frustration. I removed my glasses and lightly rubbed my forehead with my fingers before putting them back in place. Unable to resist any longer, I spared a glance at the dark-haired girl sitting on the chair beside me, she had been constantly talking from the moment she had walked in. Of all the people that we could have been partnered up with, she had to be the one.

"Hey— listen, Dora," I interrupted her, waving my hand.

She pursed her lips and shot me a curious glance. "Nora," she corrected.

I cleared my throat. "Right— uh— you know we're here to do an assignment not to launch a gossip website," I reminded her as politely as I could; she was Claire's friend after all, even though I couldn't seem to relate how these two could ever get along.

She blinked at me and then peeked at Gon, who hadn't shifted his position and didn't seem to be breathing. "What's wrong with him?" she demanded.

I gazed at him for a minute. "You alive?" I asked patting the side of his shoulder.

He slowly raised his head and stared at me. "I'm going to fail Calculus this term," he announced.

I rolled my eyes. "You'll get a passing grade," I assured him.

One of his eyes slightly twitched. "I barely attempted any of the questions in the exam."

I opened my mouth to say something consoling, then just shut it again.

"Well you could always ask Claire to change your grades," casually suggested the girl in her squeaky voice as she flipped through the pages of the book in her hand.

"What?" Gon and I asked simultaneously.

She looked between the both of us. "So, you guys seriously don't know?"

"Know what?"

She fakely widened her eyes and then smirked, shifting her position. I could tell she had gone on her full-on gossip mode now. "Okay,_ get this_," she unnecessarily stressed on the words, moving her hand sideways. "Last year, I saw Claire sneaking outside the surveillance room with her laptop," she paused, trying to create suspense. "She totally freaked out when I caught her; well, turns out she got into the school database and changed her geometry grades."

"That's impossible," I retorted. "Grading is done by people, not computers."

"That's what I said, but according to her there are like— I don't know, on average above two hundred students per subject and she said nobody would have a clue. Besides, since all the records are computerized and all the grades displayed on the school website, so she just, like— got in."

I exchanged a glance with Gon.

"She made me swear not to tell anyone and in return I have her give me a little boost in the subjects I suck at," she concluded.

"So, basically, you blackmail her?" I asked, giving her a sarcastic look.

"Well— when you say like _that_— yeah, I guess," she declared proudly.

"Thanks," Gon murmured. "But I'd rather do it the right way," he said scratching his head and went towards the kitchen.

"Suit yourself," she shrugged and then diverted her attention towards me. "Speaking of Claire, is it true that she isn't mentally stable enough to attend school anymore?"

My jaw clenched and I instantly shot her a glare.

Her eyes slightly widened as her body slightly arched back. "It's— getting late, we can do the rest of the assignment— "

"Leave," I simply ordered taking off my glasses.

I heard the door open and then shut as I sighed; walking to the kitchen, I leaned against the door. "You, me," I said pointing between me and Gon. "Skipping school tomorrow."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Are we having one of your chocolate restock trips from York New?"

"No, although that needs to be planned," I considered. "I got the keys and I wanted to check out that old man's place tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "The sooner, the better."

He sighed. "Thanks, Killua, for everything. I know there are places you'd rather be and things you'd rather do."

I scowled at him. "I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be doing exactly what I'm supposed to do and if you ever say that again, I will break your face until it is reduced to the size of a walnut, understood?"

He grinned at me and I couldn't help but smile back. "Let's just hope we find something," he mused while opening the door of the fridge.

I leaned my head against the wall and glanced at the ceiling. "Let's hope."

**Claire's P.O.V:-**

I kicked the calculus book next to me off the bed and shifted my legs, reaching for my laptop. Okay, so dodging school for over a month wasn't one of the smartest decisions I had ever made and I was going to need some serious extra credit to get through this one. The other subjects weren't much of a problem except _geometry_— maybe I could get Killua to help me out in that one.

I rubbed my eyes and clicked on the search engine. I stared blankly at the screen, I seemed to have forgotten what I was about to do; I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, I knew what my mind was delaying: since the past few months, what I hadn't dared to do was actually search the details of the massacre in the auction for myself and I somehow felt that until I didn't know about the whole thing I couldn't bring myself to accept it and then put it behind me.

Without further thought, I quickly typed 'York New auction holocaust', since that was what it had been labeled as in the news. Carefully going through the links, I paused at an article; the first image of the rumbles of the previously enormous edifice had me holding my breath. I shut my eyelids before finally mustering some courage again and scrolled lower. I rapidly skipped through the pictures of the injured and the few bodies that had been retrieved.

Stopping at the starting lines of the feature, I read through the main details. _A day of great misery for— The suffering of— A bloodbath— According to investigation reports, explosives had been previously planted all over the area— It is yet unknown who the Zoldycks were hired by— Sources reveal warnings had been given after multiple threats which had been thought to be false at the time_.

I leaned my head against the headboard and drew in a breath. I had no idea what I was trying to obtain by this. I reached the end of the page, scanning the last few parts. _The **Vortex** has promised aid to the affected families. The security and safety of the succeeding event, which has been confirmed, has been marked a top priority._

At the bottom, there was a photograph of two men in suits alongside a woman in a long red dress, smiling gently. I jerked back so fast, I seemed to have lost control of my hands. The blonde lady with her eyes on the lens, the woman who had haunted my nightmares for the past seven years was staring intently at me. The small bar below describing the names of the trio, but the sole inscription that caught and held my eye was the last one, the two bold words molding the name **Ingrid Maslen**.

In that one second, each and every part of my life seemed to be rushing in through my pores; I only felt the cold sweat on my hands when I brought the cursor closer, almost intending to click it. My thumb twitched as I heard the window slide open. Stopping at mid-breath, I immediately slammed my laptop shut.

"What are you doing?" Killua whispered in my ear and I almost threw myself off the bed as a reflex until he caught my arm.

I stared at him wide-eyed, my breath hitching. "Nothing," I answered a bit too late and a bit too loud.

"Are you okay?" he asked, touching the back of his hand to my forehead. "You're sweating."

I shook my head and grabbed the laptop, placing it on the side-table. "You just—" I halted, taking a deep breath. "You scared me," I mumbled.

He kept looking at me for a moment until he threw his head back on the pillow and took out his mobile.

I heaved a huge sigh of relief and stood up. I forced my mind to push back all the unnecessary things for now and focus on him—which was also not a very good idea since it had me replaying my mom's words in my head: _"But—you two, you've been together for— so many months and you're always like—"_

I groaned, as I involuntarily punched the desk in frustration.

Killua raised his gaze. "What's wrong?" he called.

"Uh—nothing, I just— bit my tongue," I lied.

I exhaled when he didn't reply any further and rubbed my sweaty palms over my shirt. I needed to stop thinking about this, I needed to stop pressurizing myself over what I knew I wasn't ready for. But thinking about it—

"What's wrong with you?" Killua demanded, lifting my chin up and gazing into my eyes.

"God," I breathed. "Stop freaking me out— I'm _perfectly_ fine," I assured, gesturing with my hands.

"Are you PMS-ing? Your face is burning."

"What? No!" I heaved a sigh.

He sat back down on the bed, still staring firmly at me. "If something's bothering you, you wanna talk about it?" he offered, concern deep in his observance.

Considering the mental conflict that was killing me, I was _desperate_ to talk— but to anyone other than him. Out of all the people that I knew, he was the easiest to confess to, simply because he took an interest in whatever I said. Killua and I had been together for nearly four months and all the effort had been from his side. Even besides the fact that I was a disaster for the past few months, there was no doubt he was the one who had been giving, cleaning up all the mess I left behind and then easily pretending that it never happened. Fuck me, though.

I suspired and then relaxed my shoulders, walking to the bed and wrapping myself around him.

He embraced me back, seating me on his lap and placed his chin on my shoulder; I could feel his gentle breathing.

"Are you having a crappy day too?" I mumbled, closing my eyes, taking in that dreamy scent of his.

"Hmm," he mused. "Depends on what sort of day qualifies to be called crappy by you."

"One of those_ 'fourteen hours without you' _days."

He shook, chuckling lightly. "Our definitions coincide."

I smiled against his neck.

"Did you just need a hug?" he questioned, playing with a lock of my hair.

"I guess." I contemplated my options: either I would overthink this or I would go through with it and if the later, I knew I had to get this right in one shot, either words or action. "I want something," I disclosed, halting at mid-thought.

"_Anything_," he answered back in the same instant. "Name it, it's yours."

"Do you _promise_?" Was I seriously trying to trap him in his own words? Trying to beat him at his own game? I knew well that it was utterly idiotic, but since I lacked tactic, this was all I had.

The words finally had him alerted. He shifted his position, pushing me from his lap so he could clearly meet my sight. "Tell me."

I couldn't help but fidget with my fingers, he was serious now and I knew he wouldn't let go of it even if I tried to wave it off now.

"Claire?" he addressed, his voice very intense.

"I want— I mean—"

"I'm listening," he encouraged.

I was giving myself a headache. "You," I stated, keeping my voice steady.

He raised an eyebrow. "You, _what_?" he further questioned. "I'd appreciate it if you'd be a bit clearer, you know."

I uncomfortably switched my position and leaned forward to kiss him, he answered back willingly, but I could tell his thoughts were still stuck to my words.

I pulled him closer, held him tighter; I could already picture his reaction. "Damn it," I cursed, biting my lip and drawing back.

"What is it?" he asked, confused. "Claire, _for heaven's sake_, you're making me worry," he said, ultimately losing his patience.

"_You_! I want_ you _Killua," I burst out, staring right at him.

The flat out 'no' that I was expecting to hear, didn't come. Instead, his eyes widened slightly as he processed the words and a deep pink hue burned his face for a few seconds. He just gaped at me and then shook his head. "You don't know what you're talking about," he attempted to chuckle but ended up clearing his throat.

"I'm serious," I informed him.

He shut his eyes and scratched his head. "Claire, listen, I know you probably just—"

"No," I interjected. "You listen, I know; I've been giving you hell for the past three months and all I wanna do is make it up to you— I seriously want this."

He gave me a look of surprise and then blinked. "You— you don't have to make _anything _up to me, especially not—" he stopped, lacking words.

I couldn't explain what I was feeling at the thought of actually being able of making a guy like him stutter and blush in the matter of a few minutes. I bit the inside of my cheek. "I really want you, Killua, don't you want me?" I asked, reducing the space between us.

"I— I—" he stammered.

A feeling of victory rushed through my veins, knowing I was holding my own for at least the night.

As soon as I held on to his collar, planning on opening the first button, he grabbed my wrists and had me pinned down.

When our gazes met, I saw the determination he always had, restored and boosted. He raised an eyebrow at me. "Not yet," he declared with finality.

I opened my mouth to argue, but at he was already off the bed and, in a matter of seconds, standing by the window.

"I've already set your alarm for tomorrow morning, I won't be able to come by," he casually announced, fixing the collar of his shirt as he shrugged. Opening the window pane, he paused for a moment. "Oh, and call me as soon as the sexual tension breaks off," he suggested before disappearing in an instant.

**Killua's P.O.V:-**

"Out of all the days you could've gone out of town, you choose the one when I restarted school after over a month," asserted Claire from the other line, her voice incredibly firm. "And especially with rumours circling around that I've reached insanity."

I gestured for Gon to take a left as we drove past the main road, a grin plastered on his face because he was the one who got to drive this time. "Relax," I advised. "It's just a few more hours. Tomorrow, I'll be with you and I will deal with everyone myself."

She sighed and didn't answer for a few seconds. "I'm not a kid, I don't need you fight my fights for me."

I rolled my eyes. "You're hiding in the janitor's closet, aren't you?"

"What? No— No I'm not," she lied nervously.

"Get out of there, no one's gonna kill you."

"I'd rather die and not be found," she says in a muffled voice. "And seriously, I hate you— I have like ten more minutes of break time before I go back outside to people gaping at me and telling me how sorry they are." She sighed. "I can't stand it."

"Or maybe, you're just telling yourself that because you can't admit that you miss me," I teased. Gon parked the car right in front of the flat and killed the engine.

"God, for all the levels of jerk you can reach. You should get a guide on how to be a better boyfriend... or just read _Twilight_."

"Are you kidding me? _Edward Cullen_?" I demanded sarcastically.

"That was like the worst side-track ever," she considered. "Forget it. You know what? _I miss you Killua_."

I drew in a breath, slightly louder than I intended to; Gon waved his hand in front of my face to capture my attention and indicated outside. I nodded and signaled for him to wait. "Really?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady as he opened the door and got out. "And what exactly are you missing about me?"

"You seriously want me to set that ego of yours on fire?" she demanded.

"I'm a modest man, but you can try."

I heard her laugh breathlessly. "Okay, well—I'm not gonna be dramatic and say everything but—I miss the way you touch me—and your stupid jokes and—I miss the way you laugh. You know, when you throw your head back and everything—yeah, that." Her voice got lower and lower as she continued to talk.

I couldn't stop the smile that crept on my face. "I'll make today up to you," I promised

"This _better _be good."

"Dinner, tonight," I stated briefly.

"Too demanding," she huffed. "I just want somewhere with no one but us."

"Tell you what, we'll hit the drive through and I'll take you _anywhere_ you want."

She took a calm breath. "Will you kiss me?"

"I'll do anything you want," I guaranteed. "Listen, about yesterday—" I commenced.

"N—no," she interrupted immediately. "I wasn't in my senses yesterday, okay?"

Gon tapped the glass and I raised a finger with an apologetic expression. "No, you were right, if you really want this, then—"

"No, I—no—I—Killua, I wasn't thinking and I'm not ready for that, really."

I bit my lip, trying to keep my tone serious. "Oh, I could still give it to you, you know, without hitting _Home Run_," I goaded.

She gasped loudly and I could almost see her expression. "Shut up, idiot," she whisper-shouted and hung up; I ran a hand through my hair and chuckled, oblivious to the fact that it was the last time we would talk like that in quite a while.

**Claire's P.O.V:-**

Most of my day just consisted of me trying to find places where I wouldn't be seen and receiving a pile of assignments from my teachers for all the time I had wasted, how I would get all of that done in just a few days was still something I was working on. The hours dragged forward and finally when the bell rang and I thought I would be free to rush home, it started raining and when I went to my locker to retrieve my umbrella, I found out that the combination had been changed— this day just couldn't get any better.

I sat outside on the pavement, trying to reach my mom, but she wasn't picking up. I sighed and decided to just wait until the weather got better, which honestly just seemed to be getting worse by the second; my luck was at its zenith today. In the middle of my evaluating on how today could actually reach an even worse degree, I sneezed. The last thing I needed right now was to catch a cold.

I turned around, planning on waiting in the library when I caught sight of the green-eyed man staring amusedly at me.

"It _is _you," he affirmed. "I thought you looked familiar."

I blinked at him. "Um I—" I stammered as I stood up.

"How are you?" he asked. "It's been a while." My calculus teacher smiled at me, it was the same sad smile Killua had sometimes.

"I'm—I'm okay—I was uh—planning on seeing you to talk about the classes I—"

He placed a hand on my shoulder, I halted, waiting for him to say the words I had been hearing repeatedly all morning. "I'm not going to say I'm sorry," he notified me.

I looked up at him, he was an inch or two shorter than Killua. "You're not?" I demanded, stupefied.

"Will it make you feel better?"

I sighed and shook my head.

He looked around. "Are you waiting for someone?"

"Yeah, sort of."

"You should come to my house," he suggested. "It's close by, you could wait there."

"What? No—it's fine, really."

"We can discuss how you are going to recover your grades," he proposed.

"Actually—"

"I insist," he further pressed.

Having no choice, I decided to give up. "Uh—Alright." I shrugged.

He thrust his umbrella open and waited for me to join him.

For some reason I couldn't comprehend at the time, I looked behind me, feeling a chill in my spine; shaking off the weird feeling, I dug my hands in my pockets and followed him, the sound of water splashing behind me as I walked, not knowing that this was one of the worst decisions I ever made.

_Walking towards a path, truly an abyss_

_oblivious to the darkness that it holds within._


	16. Peril

I'm late but I'm back! Alright so this a/n is going to be short just like this chapter, which I'm sure you'll all hate. You can all curse me in your reviews for which I thank you all.

Chapter: 16

* * *

**"Peril."**

* * *

_The frosty breeze of December pierced through the girl's brown locks as she tightened her fingers around the cords of a coloured paper bag with her free hand, the other in the pocket of the fair-haired teenager's coat, intertwined with his. The sound of laughter and chatter all around the city streets was warm enough to divert the numbness left by the cold, deserted path that lead out of the graveyard._

_A thick layer of snow covered the side of the pavement creating a golden glow on the edge, cast by the twinkling lights on the towering trees. The windows at every corner glinted with hopes and reflected dreams._

_"Say something," invited the blue-eyed boy._

_The brunette sighed, her misty breath easily visible in the cold air. "I had really prayed it wouldn't snow this time."_

_He shot her an astonished look. "Man, you're a Christmas dream-wrecker," he accused as they walked ahead._

_"I'm a human with controversial taste," she defended. "I mean, you can totally make a snowman with sand."_

_"Except that would be a sandman, who happens to be a villain," he scoffed. "Just a sign from the universe, right there."_

_"We could also have sand-angels and sand-cones."_

_"If you were in charge, this would be a very merry world."_

_"Different strokes for different folks." She shrugged, looking ahead._

_They took a turn, passing by the church; carols could be heard clearly from somewhere nearby that faded as they went ahead. "So, I'm guessing Christmas isn't your favourite time of the year."_

_There was an instant of silence after which she attempted to smile. "Used to be."_

_He turned his gaze away, afraid of being crushed by what he would see on her face. "I like Halloween," he confessed in order to divert her attention._

_"No surprise there," she informed, following him as they sat down on the cold bench just steps away._

_"Not just because of the candy; there's just something about a good scare that brings everything into perspective," he mused._

_She pulled both of their joint hands out of his pocket. "There are those bone shaped cookies I don't like, it feels like eating real bones."_

_"Except bones wouldn't taste like that."_

_"How would you know?" she challenged._

_The former assassin rolled his eyes and took out a small box from his pocket. "Hope, for as long as we stand by it, is our greatest strength." He exposed the glittering bracelet on her wrist, then opened the lid of the small box and fastened another charm around the bracelet, right next to the shiny K that already hung from it._

_The seventeen-year-old lifted her arm to examine the newly added silver figure. "A snowflake?" she asked, raising an eyebrow._

_He smiled at her questioning gaze. "A symbol to show that even though winters are cold, it doesn't mean they're not beautiful."_

_She met his gaze and gave him a small beam. "You surprise me just about every day." She gently took out the sapphire-blue scarf from the bag clutched in her hand and tied it around his neck. "It reminded me of your eyes," she revealed. "And also, the chocolates will not be considered a proper gift, alright?"_

_He suppressed a smile. "Merry Christmas, Claire."_

_She leaned closer, feeling his warmth. "Merry Christmas, Killua." She whispered the words on his lips as silent tears fell down her cheeks._

* * *

"Would you like more sugar?" My calculus teacher offered when I was seated in his lounge with a cup of tea.

"No thanks," I declined, clearing my throat. I rubbed my thumbs nervously around it; for some reason his apartment gave me the creeps.

"So," he began after taking a sip, his tone very casual.

"So... what's it going to be? A sort of big test or something?" I inquired.

He raised an eyebrow and blinked his green eyes like he wasn't expecting that. "Oh—well, a test? You've been missing all your classes and you still think you can study for a test?" he demanded, surprised.

I gestured awkwardly with one hand. "Yeah—I can totally catch up, Killua can help me out," I stammered. "I mean, I've already got tons of assignments and this sounds like the easiest thing to do right now."

He studied my face for a second. "Alright," he agreed, his voice lacking interest. "Speaking of Killua, I didn't see him around today."

I resisted the urge to grimace. "He was busy," I said shortly.

"You two seem very close," he commented.

I stared at him for a moment; did I imagine the change in his tone? "We're good friends." I sipped some tea during an awkward silence.

"Love," he whispered finally. "It's a wonderful feeling, and of course, there is nothing worse than losing a loved one." His voice got very hard at some point while talking, as if he wasn't even addressing me anymore.

I sat still and silent, not knowing what to say.

"Can I ask you a question?" He directed his gaze to me, as if he was suddenly aware of his surroundings again.

I nodded, feeling very uncomfortable.

"If someone took from you a person you loved, what would you do to them?"

"I'd despise myself for the rest of my life," I answered honestly, shifting my legs.

He gave me dazed look. "Yourself—you would despise yourself?"

I sighed. "Yes, because I know that whether true or not or whether possible or not, I would find a reason to blame myself for losing that person, for not being able to do anything or for not being there." It wasn't hard at all to explain, since all I had to do was state what I felt every day after losing my dad.

Keitomaro's shoulders relaxed and he closed his eyes. "No hate towards the killer?"

"That's not humanly possible," I replied, forcing a small smile.

He exhaled deeply and looked at the floor. "What if you had the opportunity to do the same to them?" The timbre of his voice was rough now.

For a second, I thought I saw water in his eyes. "Even so, I can't see myself doing that," I responded. "I wouldn't want my regrets to, ultimately, kill me."

He didn't speak. After rubbing his eyes twice, he bore his gaze into mine; there was a wild glint in them now. "Have you ever felt remorse?"

The question was brief, simple, yet terrifying.

* * *

_"Seriously, Killua, I can't do this," complained the brunette as she attempted to steady herself._

_The silver-haired boy glanced at her as he put one hand on her shoulder and another around her waist. "Don't worry, if you die, I'll make sure you're remembered in good words."_

_She threw him a skeptical look and took a deep breath as she stood on the skateboard. "The last thing I am is athletic."_

_He rolled his eyes. "No one's sending you off to the skateboarding Olympics, take a breath."_

_"I'm as positively sure that I'll suck at this just as much as I am sure that there is no skateboarding olympics."_

_"Humor Claire, humor," he said patting her back._

_"You're just doing this so you can laugh at me, you know I can still recall the time you almost drowned me very clearly." She emphasized the last words._

_He sighed. "I regret that to this day; now keep your balance."_

_She flipped her hair to look at him. "Wow, good one."_

_He couldn't help but smirk. "That wasn't intended."_

_"Killua, let me get off this thing."_

_"What are the odds of that?" he asked, caressing her cheek._

_"Just as many as there are that I won't fall."_

_"You won't fall," he assured._

_"I will."_

_"I won't let you."_

_"What if I do anyways?"_

_"I'll catch you," he said, taking her hand._

_"Do you promise?" she said, holding his gaze._

_"I promise, I won't let you fall."_

* * *

"Remorse?" I repeated.

He leaned his head against the couch. "See, Claire, sometimes in life we have to do things we don't want and crush innocent things just because of the deep influence they have."

I looked up at him.

"How do you destroy a strong rival?" he questioned, changing his position and fixing his sight on me. "By striking their weak point," he retorted to himself.

I ripped my gaze away from his and looked out the window, trying to control the sudden trembling of my hands. "I think it stopped raining," I whispered.

He didn't move an inch. "It's still raining."

My stomach felt very hollow all of a sudden. "I should get going, it's pretty late."

He signaled with his hands for me not to move. "You're a very smart girl Claire, with such a unique mindset. You amaze me."

I tried to keep my breathing steady.

"A life like yours isn't worth wasting, I would never hurt you," he said convincingly.

I sat there completely motionless, suddenly hyper-aware of my clammy hands.

"But I'm helpless," he added. "Believe me, if I had any other way—" he continued with his head in his hands.

I tried to keep calm and think rationally. Very carefully and soundlessly, I slowly moved my hand to my pocket. If I could just reach—

"Don't bother," he advised, breaking off his tirade. He raised an object in his hand until it was clearly visible: my cell phone.

I shut my eyes and tried to inhale, my throat felt too tight now.

"You're very easy to distract," he remarked, standing up now. "Judging the way you're not demanding any reason for this, I believe you already know everything; has he told you?"

I wanted desperately to say something, just ask him to make sense of all of this, but I couldn't seem to find my voice.

"But then again, if you did know everything, you wouldn't have been foolish enough to follow me here." He ate up the distance between us and knelt down before me.

My fingers shivered so violently that the porcelain cup in my hand, which I didn't even seem to remember holding, escaped my hands and shattered as it fell to the floor. The sound of it appeared to be echoing from every direction.

He stared down at the fragments with an empty expression and then directed his attention back to me. "Don't be scared," he consoled. "I don't want to do this, I have nothing against you—It's him, it was all him," he explained in a hysterical voice. "He took my family from me, he murdered them all—it was all him," he repeated.

I mustered the strength to clench my jaw and stop the whimper that nearly escaped my lips.

"You don't need to be afraid," he resumed. "You won't suffer—I—I'll make it as painless as possible; you'll forgive me won't you?" he pleaded, widening his eyes. "You have a very kind soul, you won't hold anything against me—" He placed his hands on my knees. "—you won't—"

As a reflex, my leg shot up and my boot made contact with his arm, causing him to fall back to the coffee table behind him. I couldn't help the tears rushing out of my eyes now. "Get away from me! You're insane!" I shouted.

He got up and steadied himself, his expression was completely inhumane. In a matter of seconds, he caught both my arms and pushed me against the couch. "Yes! I'm insane! I'm crazy!" His voice was unrecognizable now.

I couldn't help but sob; my body failed to obey any of my commands anymore.

"Why aren't you screaming?" he bellowed. "Why aren't you asking for mercy? Do you still think he's going to rescue you?"

I struggled to pry his fingers away from my arms. "Go to hell," I hoarsely cursed, my voice barely audible. The only thing I was praying right now was for my mother to be strong enough to handle one more loss.

* * *

_The violent wind repeatedly struck against the window glass, producing a tapping sound, but the sound seemed to be inaudible to the two figures sprawled on the couch, their attentions held by the scenario playing on the television screen._

_The silver-haired boy directed his gaze to the girl lying in his arms, most parts of her visage covered by her brown locks. "Well, you're awfully quiet. I was expecting a major, verbal essay after that dialogue."_

_She didn't respond nor did she move; he realized she wasn't breathing._

_Raising an eyebrow, he held her shoulders and shifted her position as to face him. "Are you crying?" he asked, astonished._

_She immediately covered her wet eyes. "No," she lied._

_He gave her an affectionate glance and wiped away a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Claire?"_

_She took a deep breath and removed her hands from her face. "How dare do they do that to her? I mean— just why did they decide to kill her off in the end, after all she's been through and— and— that lying jerk-face of a boyfriend she has, who loves her but is too coward to tell her the truth, I mean—"_

_"She's not dead," he reminded her._

_"But she's going to be, I mean there is no fucking way that he's going to save her," she argued._

_"He's going to save her."_

_"That— okay let's consider the absurdity of that happening, will he be man enough to tell her everything?"_

_"Yes," he paused, "This movie is a total cliche, I honestly can't believe you actually felt something while watching it."_

_She finally relaxed and threw him a skeptical look. "You've watched this before, haven't you?"_

_He smirked as he looked back to the screen. "That might be a possibility."_

_She groaned. "You're such a jerk." She picked up the remote and shut it off._

_"What the— you could, at least, have watched the ending."_

_"So, he totally rescues her, right? And they have a happy ending, right?"_

_He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it's a bliss; except instead of telling her himself, she sort of finds out on her own."_

_"And accepts it?"_

_"Well— I'm not gonna tell you," he concluded._

_"What? Why?"_

_"Because, I want you to see it for yourself."_

_She huffed. "You could just tell me."_

_"And spoil your fun? Nah, everyone likes a little thrill and a good mystery."_

_"Not me, I totally want you to spoil it for me."_

_"No way," he shook his head, smirking. "Find out for yourself."_

* * *

**Killua's P.O.V:-**

I drove past the main street with my fingers angrily clenched on the steering wheel. I honestly couldn't believe we wasted a whole day on utter and complete shit. I took the last turn and parked in front of her house.

Taking a deep breath, I leaned my head against the car seat and quickly texted for Claire to come out. I held my head in my hands and waited for her reply for a minute; when that didn't happen, which I found very unusual since she always answered within seconds, I hit dial and was surprised to be sent to voicemail. Maybe she left her phone in her room and was downstairs,

I got out of the car and knocked lightly on the front door. After a few minutes, her mother answered the door, her eyes looking tired.

"Oh Killua, I'm so glad you're here. Is Claire with you? She isn't answering her phone. I'm sure she's out of battery, as usual," she said, quickly rushing through the words.

My muscles tensed on their own. Claire didn't come back home from school and wasn't picking up her mobile. I tried to process the information in my head.

"Killua?" Hana addressed, concerned.

"Y-yes," I stuttered. "She's at my place, sorry, she forgot to tell you," I lied. The last thing I was going to do was tell a pregnant woman who had just recently lost her husband that her only daughter was missing.

"Oh, okay. Do you need something?" she asked, keeping her balance by holding the door-frame.

"Yeah, actually we're working on an assignment and she needed her laptop, so she asked me to get it." I lied fluently.

"Sure, can you get it yourself, honey? I'm not supposed to climb the stairs," she apologized.

"Of course," I assured as I went in and tried to keep my face composed. Once I was out of her sight, I quickly grabbed her laptop from the side-table and rushed down. "I'm off okay?" I called from the door, just about to leave.

"Killua, wait a minute." She stopped me.

"Yeah?"

She caught her breath and smiled at me. "Thank you."

I raised my eyebrows. "What?"

"You know, Claire was a mess after—after Hachiro—" She broke off. "—and you just pulled her back together and—gosh, I really don't know how to thank you and just thank you doesn't cover it, but thank you." I wasn't expecting it when she lowered to my face, kissed me on my forehead and embraced me.

For an instant, I just froze until I awkwardly put my free arm around her and wished this moment would last longer than it did. It was the first time in five years that I realized that, even though I was repeatedly denying it, I missed my mother.

I put the laptop on the passenger seat as I got in the car and drove a block ahead before parking by the local park. I pulled out my cell and dialed Gon's number.

"Hey, Claire isn't there with you, is she?" My tone was a bit too hopeful.

"Uh—was she supposed to be here?"

I sighed. "I can't find her anywhere and she won't pick up."

"I'll look around the block, okay?" he assured me.

I felt exhausted. "Thanks, man."

I quickly searched the area and then drove to a place I thought it was highly unlikely she'd be. I knocked several times before the brunette with the unbearably high-pitched voice answered the door.

"Killua?" she asked, startled.

I didn't blame her, this was probably the first and last time she'd see me here. "Nora, please tell me Claire is here with you," I pleaded.

She grimaced at me. "Why would she be here?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Did you see her at school?"

"Yeah, she didn't talk to me, though," she said in an offended manner.

"Where did she go after school?"

"I don't know," she retorted, uninterested.

"Nora." I breathed and chose the word that I had never used with anyone in my life. "I beg you, if you have the slightest idea where Claire is, please—please just tell me."

Her expression softened. "I—I did see her on the school ground, she was with Mr. Keitomaro, probably discussing how to catch up her grades and—"

My eyes widened and for what seemed an eternity, I felt numb. I found my feet dragging me away even before I made a conscious decision to do so. My body felt too heavy as I strode forward. Please, let her be okay. Let her alright. I chanted in my head as I drove forward into the endless night praying, begging that she'd be safe and pushing back all the horrifying thoughts that my mind threw at me as I bolted in the direction of the setting sun.

**Claire's P.O.V:-**

My wrists were covered in bleeding marks that I didn't have the strength to look at. A deep pain surging throughout my arms from where his nails had pierced my skin. His berserk voice was ringing throughout the room, I could barely understand what he was saying; I barely had any energy left to breathe. There was a loud noise—things being slammed forcefully together until there was a complete silence, the kind that was ominous.

Once again, the man approached me; his hair looked frantic and his eyes were wild. Very slowly, he revealed the item in his trembling hand and brought it closer to me. The handgun made contact with my forehead and I just closed my eyes waiting for it all to finish.

"I will make it painless," he repeated. "I just want him to feel the agony I felt; I want him to hold your lifeless body and feel as helpless as I did."

I coughed, trying to ignore the burning sensation in my throat. "Who the hell do you keep talking about?" I finally asked weakly. I felt the cold metal that was touching my skin move away. I opened my eyes and saw him observing me with his hollow gaze.

"You ask me who I keep mentioning?" His voice was empty and lost. "You are here, approaching death because of him and you don't even know who he is?"

"Who don't I know?"

He dropped the pistol from his hand and remained silent for a moment. "Killua Zoldyck," he disclosed in a whisper.

My head jerked straight instantly. "What?"

He grabbed my hand and nodded. "Yes, the heir, that is who I speak of; Killua Zoldyck."

"Z-Zoldyck? You're—wrong, they—the Zoldycks killed my—" I freed my hand forcefully, unable to comprehend my own actions. "Don't touch me—you're lying! You're a maniac!"

He tittered in rough breaths. "Yes, the Zoldycks, they are responsible for every loss. They are to be despised, that boy is a peril; he is a killer."

The last word echoed in my ears like a painful cry. I wasn't breathing, I needed air. I wanted to tell him he was wrong but felt barely conscious. He was wrong. He was wrong.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang and a moment later, the door fell to the ground in pieces. The figure standing there was only scarcely visible. My lungs were hurting.

Before I could even understand the occurring events, the shadow of the newly entered person vanished in a blur and Keitomaro's form disappeared from before me; the next thing my eyes registered was his feeble shape thrown on the floor as he let out unbearable screams of agony.

The last thing I remembered seeing were the bloody claws of a killer, that I thought I knew, standing motionless beside the headless body of the man who nearly killed me.

_Death is a reality, considered surreal,_

_to whom it horrifies and to whom it appeals._


	17. Panacea

Yay, I'm finally punctual with my update this time! I can thank the weird urge to write that I've been having for the past few weeks for this, actually I think I'm going to start writing the next chapter just as I'm finished posting this one... I'm hopeless, aren't I?

Well, leaving all that aside, once again I thank you all for your sweet reviews. I'd like to thank the people who have reviewed as guests and sadly I couldn't reply your reviews. Caliope07, who is always greatly worried about Claire's safety, I suggest you not to be afraid 'cause she's a bitch and she'll be fine... can't say the same for the people around her though... she has this tendency to emotionally destroy other people when her own life is out of place, I guess you've noticed.

Another guest review informed me that there were several things in the story they didn't understand and I would've loved to explain it all to them, but since I couldn't reply I thought to write down a summary of the story, It might also seem appropriate after the climax it just went through. Well, here goes: _Previously in Seize The Moment_. (In Damon's voice from the vampire diaries)

Starting from Claire's past, so far what we know is that she had two siblings, she lived in a mansion and was raised by a maid. She learned how to read at a very young age and was caught sneaking in a library by a man named Ro, who eventually becomes her friend but ultimately, he just vanishes leaving her with nothing but her incredibly disrupted life and a book. So, instead she just starts hating every single person around her. Her sister Katie, is a very mysterious little girl with horrifyingly dark abilities but she is exceptionally fond of both her sister and brother. Luca returns those feelings, Claire... not so much. Claire has once mentioned that Luca and Katie are both her half-siblings, so that's also something that we'll find out about later, or quite soon. At the age of ten, she is incredibly clever and some of the flashbacks reveal her step-mother, Ingrid, who has again been mentioned in one of the recent chapters, she makes Claire sign a contract and allows her to at last leave the estate at last. Now what is the Vortex and what does Ingrid have to do with it, this is all part of things that we'll discover soon enough. According to Claire's version of her past, she happened to kill her sister and believe that there is some dark spirit inside her, but did she? And is there? She runs away and finds herself at an orphanage when she regains consciousness; after a few tragical weeks she gets adopted and is ready as ever to start fresh with her life and forget about her past but that seems close to impossible with all the nightmares that keep haunting every night.

Seven years later, she has developed into a shy, awkward and sarcastic teenager who avoids company, now that becomes exceedingly difficult when an annoyingly hot boy, who she meets at a supermarket then again at school, starts to enjoy teasing her and getting amusing replies. Why are Gon and Killua in this little city? And who is the man they are trying to keep tabs on? Everything will make sense at due time. After that, you know how Killua and Claire's bickering alters into a romantic relationship; but Killua's struggle to hide his past from her becomes even more difficult when her father dies during an attack at the annual auction conducted by the Zoldycks and a vindictive man from Killua's past is desperately trying to avenge his family. Moving on, he lures Claire into his apartment with the motive of killing her but his plans are delayed as his conscience kicks in some remorse and he ends up telling her about Killua's true identity. Now, why were Killua and Gon out of town when this happened? Actually they were not, they decided to sneak in the apartment of the man they had been tailing, what for? That's all for later. Killua shows up at the last moment and out of rage, ends up killing the man. Now pause.

Many people pleaded that Claire should forgive Killua, but come on guys, don't we know just what a big asshole she is? We do, we do. Whatever you do not understand from here on, please ask me and I'll be glad to help you out. I do hope I explained well enough?

This chapter has not been checked by my betas as they are both busy, but I hope it is still bearable. Wow, this author's note seems longer than the chapter itself... I'm just gonna add that I had so much fun writing this chapter because I was super inspired after reading some awesome novels in the past weeks; just in case you haven't read them I'll tell you the names: The fault in our stars, And the mountains echoed, Wuthering Heights and last night I read The perks of being a wallflower and it kind of changed my life, if you read it, hope it does the same for you. I'd love for you to recommend me some books, all I wanna do these days is read. Guys, I'm not shutting up anytime soon so please, just save yourselves. Also I tried driving for the first time and nearly hit the car against the side walk... my brother says the next time he'll teach me is when hell freezes over, well, I hope that happens soon! Dig in guys! (I'm too weird for my own good or yours).

Chapter: 17

* * *

**"Panacea."**

* * *

_The brunette wiped the tears from off her cheek and attempted to smile at the blue eyed boy who stared at her with an expression of concern._

_They were seated in his car, rain splattering furiously on the windshield and the dark, velvety mantel of the night settled around them._

_"Talk to me," he encouraged, gently caressing her wet cheek._

_"I'm so sorry." Her voice was rough and weak. "Calling you over at three in the morning was a major dick move," she apologised. "I just didn't know what to do."_

_He curled his fingers around her hand. "Yeah, well you don't have one so stop acting like one."_

_She chuckled through her streaming eyes. "I just saw him__—__my dad, it felt so real and I just walked down to his study thinking he was calling me and__—__I was just sitting there like an idiot and__—__" she paused trying to catch her breath. "He wasn't there." She sobbed involuntarily and tried to hide her face in her hands._

_"Is crying making you feel better?" He asked softly._

_She grabbed his hand and shook her head. "No, please just make me laugh again." She demanded in a small voice._

_He removed the hair covering the side of her face and took out his cell phone. "Let's see." He tapped the screen several times. "What to do when a girl starts crying," he mumbled. "There, now according to this blog girls tend to cry for the following reasons." He jerked his eyebrows upward in amusement. "When they experience mood swings during their period," he recited and then looked at the teenager for approval._

_She rolled her eyes and shook her head._

_"Well, a bowl of ice cream is thought most effective in such situations; moving on, another reason for a girl to spontaneously burst out crying is if she has just recently been dumped. To get over that.. "He shot her a glance from the corner of his eye noiselessly mouthing something. ".. Burn his clothes__—__what the hell?" He looked at her stupified. "Girls actually do this stuff?"_

_She snatched the phone from his hand. "Give me that, you've been making this all up__—__" she declared examining the content. "Fucking__—__wow." She breathed. "Okay this has clearly been written by a guy who has been single his whole life and is most probably fond of eating spinich from plastic bags at very late times of the night," she muttered._

_"But seriously this horrifies me, girls are dangerous," he noted._

_She rolled her eyes again. "Remember that time we nearly got detention because of you?" She recalled._

_"But I talked our way out of it," he reminded._

_"Yeah, but when I was waiting outside the main office Gon showed up saying he wanted to shift his biology classes at some other period."_

_The boy narrowed his eyes in concentration. "What? Where was I when that happened?" He asked amused._

_"Probably talking our way out of trouble? But whatever, when I asked Gon why, he told me there was this girl in his class who hated him and kept throwing paper balls at him."_

_"Because of a__—__" he started furiously._

_"Just listen to the whole thing, you moron," she interjected. "It turned out that girl actually really liked him and kept throwing her phone number at him."_

_His eyes widened for a moment before they both threw their head back and roared with laughter._

_"No way," he whispered between loud chuckles. "I can't believe that guy."_

_"He's so tactless it's adorable," the girl spoke trying to keep a straight face. "In short, this is how dangerous girls can be."_

_He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "I'm truly speechless," he confessed._

_After a short silence the girl turned to look at his face. "Doesn't it scare you?" She debriefed._

_"What?"_

_"The thought of being happy," she revealed. "It's like something dark is just waiting at the corner, ready to snatch it all away from you."_

_"Are you afraid of being happy?" His expression was very serious now._

_"I'm afraid of believing that life is really as good as it seems. I can't just grasp it anymore, you know? Like the calm before the storm," she ventured in a hushed tone, her stare hollow as she watched the rain pour heavily on the glass._

**Killua's P.O.V:-**

I brought my shaking hands to the dashboard, as I attempted to reach for my cell phone. The screen of it was now stained with blood from every part that my fingers made contact with it. I hit redial on the first contact in call log.

I shifted slightly to face the unconscious and fragile figure lying on the passenger seat beside me. Her hair was covering part of her visage and her wrists were bruised.

The dial tone ringed in my ears as I forced myself to ignore how painful my breathing was all of a sudden.

"Did you find her?" Asked a concerned voice from the other line.

"Gon," I said barely louder than a whisper, his name sent a minute ray of comfort through my body.

A few seconds passed before he replied, I could almost hear how his breathing sped up. "Killua is— what's going on?"

"Gon," I repeated breathlessly. "I killed him."

Another halt. "Who?" His voice was too quiet.

"The stalker from York New, I killed him."

The silence that followed seemed to rip me apart.

"He had her, he was going to kill her, I don't know what happened— I killed him; she saw me, I— he must've told her everything."

"Where's Claire?" He spoke at last and it seemed to me as if part of my sin had already been forgiven.

"She's here— she fainted." I looked at her extremely pale skin, it looked like the last bit of blood had been drained from within her.

"Killua," Gon spoke with authority now. "Listen to me, take her home and clean the mess you've made."

"She will—" I began, I felt weak.

"Leave it right as it is for now, let her go. You have to go back and get rid of the body before someone finds out."

"I have to fix—"

"You can't fix anything for now!" He bellowed. "Killua get in your senses and stop torturing yourself over something you don't have control over."

I closed my eyes and let his words sink in me like a deep poison. After a second the line went dead and as I stared at the girl lying peacefully before me, I thought I did too.

**Claire's P.O.V:-**

It never occurred to me in my life that my mind resumed the same thoughts it had just as it slipped in to unconsciousness, but as my eyes darted open, the prior pain I had felt in what seemed like a century ago, surged through my body like a maddening fire. It felt like my existence itself was the greatest tragedy to have occurred in my life. In the next instant, which could've been shorter than the time taken by the clock hand to tick, I was suddenly vividly aware of my surroundings.

My hand reached out to the headboard for support and my gaze fell on the bandages strapped across both my wrists.

It was all a lie. I shut my eyes as the burning threatened something unspoken and unbearable. I clung harder to the wood. _You won't shed a tear for that monster_. But the more I opposed it, the more it rebelled and before my inner clash could go any further I felt the sickening wetness on my cheek, the first tear streamed down followed by another then another and as I clasped a hand over my mouth, a sob escaped without any warning. I broke down into hysterical cries, feeling powerless and not having any control over my own body.

"No!" I scratched and peeled off the protective material from my arms as wildly as possible. "NO!" I rushed to my feet towards the maple drawers and knocked off everything within my reach. My knees gave up and I sank lower and lower. I gripped the end of the side table and threw it open, I grabbed the pair of scissors as soon as my eyes located them.

Separating both the sharp ends from one another, I brought one to my already injured wrist. Did I possess the strength to end this misery? I drew in a deep breath and closed my eyes.

_"Take care of your mom."_

I gritted my teeth.

_"Tell Hana I love her."_

I wiped my face with my hand. Every part of me, my skin, he had touched everything. I hated myself immensely when my thoughts took me to him. With shaking hands I seized every strand of my hair that came to my hold and cut it off with all my strength. I staggered towards the opposite wall, staring at my own reflection. The pale faced girl with the wild short hair looked back at me and in the matter of seconds threw questions at me to which I lacked the answers. _Who are you?_ Who was I? It pierced me deeper than it should have as I realized just how like the fog settled onto the window glass, my life had the blurry outlines of an unknown beginning and a destructive flow. Slowly, but deeply, I felt myself settling into the dark aspect that I had been struggling to keep myself away from. _"You're a monster."_ a muffled whisper came from a great distance and time away and this time I didn't deny it.

* * *

The formal and useless knock sounded on my door as the usual blonde revealed herself. "Claire?" She said in a guarded voice.

I didn't bother to answer as I sat lying against the headboard of my bed.

She walked in and drew back the curtains, for the first time in five days, I saw light as it pricked my dark adjusted eyes. "What are you doing? Get out." I ordered pulling the sheets over my head.

She sighed loudly and I knew an emotional lecture was on the way. "Honey, I know it's hard for you- you've never been through this but I think shutting yourself in your room for five days is enough proof that Killua—"

"Don't say his name!" I shouted.

"I—Minoru is here, he wants to talk to you."

"I couldn't care less. Get out and next time don't bother knocking since you're gonna barge in anyway."

"Claire, please. He cares about you, come talk to him, honey." She pleaded.

"Just stop acting, okay? We both know you're the one who called him here and I don't give a shit about—" I said revealing myself.

"Claire, just stop it!" She raged. "Just give me a break, okay? I have to deal with work, this hormonal pregnancy and I'm trying my best, I know it's hard for you too but that doesn't mean you get to lash out on me." Her eyes were glistening with tears on the verge. "I honestly don't know how to do it right, I— and you just with everything you're doing with yourself; you cut off your hair and it worries me okay? Sorry for not being an expert on how to raise a teenager, I'm trying."

She gave me a piercing look then shut the door behind her and disappeared.

I got out of bed and saw a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I walked by, it was enough to tell me why she was worried.

When I got downstairs I saw my mom crying with her hands over her face and Mr. Domoto consoling her. They both got alert as I sat down beside them without a single word.

"How are you?" He asked in a soft voice as my mom watched me carefully.

"You can skip that shit."

"Claire—" she began before he gestured for her to stop.

"I know, you're going through a difficult time right now—" he repeated the same old speech until I decided I had enough of this, enough of it all.

"You know? Wow, okay, so why are you here? Are you here to give me relationship advice? Or are you here to tell me exactly how to spend my time being a loner like you did?"

"Claire!" My mom exclaimed furious.

"Yeah, well I don't need you okay? This is supposed to be my dad's job and he's not here so you don't get to take his place." I stood up. "Stop trying to act like my dad because the truth is that you're just a sad piece of shit who got dumped and can't get over it."

"Shut up Claire!"

Mr. Domoto simply got up wordlessly, he looked at me, his face lacking expression. His gaze seemed to linger for a century until he walked out of sight, leaving the door wide open.

My mom looked astonished from the door to my face. "Get out of my sight immediately," she commanded in a stable tone.

I attempted to control my breathing and looked at her.

"Just get the hell out of here before I do something we'll both regret!"

After that she stopped talking to me at all and to escape the terrible and meaningless silence, I went to school the next day after yet another small break of a week. After fifth period I decided to skip class and just sit in front of my locker because I felt like it. Attending lectures was useless since I hadn't recovered my previous course and decided not to. The curious looks didn't bother me much, I knew even I would gape at myself with the news circulating after careful observation that I was now keeping my distance from him as did he. The predictable story of the calculus teacher leaving town had successfully been circulated by him and excluding the fact that girls no longer glared at me as I was no more the thief of their heart throb, everything was back to normal.

"Claire?" Said a voice that I seemed not to recognise.

I looked up as Naomi stared closely at me, her pungent perfume giving me the start of a headache. "Not today," I warned her as I stood up and opened my locker just for the sake of looking busy. I didn't want her smug talk on how her way to him was nice and clear.

"I heard about—"

I clenched my teeth, anger radiating through me like it was meant just to be there. "Yeah, you heard right. You must be in pure bliss," I muttered.

She looked at me worried with an expression that looked somewhat like concern. "I'm really sorry, I know it must be hard for y—"

In the next second, without actually thinking, I slammed the locker door in her face, literally.

* * *

"Worst attendance record so far, grades clearly declining and now she's shown severe violence towards a student," the coordinator listed as I sat in his office with my mom. Her face was crumpled and she looked devastated. "I'm so sorry," she repeated once again, her voice very weak. "She's just sustained a very heavy loss, you know her father.."

"I understand," said the dark haired man, now staring at me. "But that still does not give her the excuse to display aggression over other people."

I wanted to suggest adding rushed and unreasonable before aggression, because it turned out that Naomi came to talk about my father, not Killua..

"Suspension." I only returned mentally to the conversation when this word was mentioned and the final decision was to suspend me for three days.

When we both got out my mom strode away without a word and I saw her get in the car and drive away.

Clearly, I was going to be walking home, in the rain, without an umbrella.

I just reached the parking lot when someone called my name. I stopped to see Gon walking to me.

"If you're here to protest and justify from his behalf then you're wasting your time," I clarified and resumed my pace.

"I—no. I'm not here for him," he quickly convinced.

"Then, why are you here?"

"I'm—I—need a favour," he said now walking beside me. I barely reached his shoulder but his height wasn't a dominating feature, it was his innocent face.

"What do you want?" I asked, trying to keep my tone balanced.

"I'll explain, if you just come have a ride with me," he suggested gesturing towards his car.

"I'm not getting into that car," I stated firmly as I looked back at the familiar sleek black car.

"But-" he protested.

"Well, just walk." I shrugged.

"But it's raining—"

"I don't care, if you wanna talk, deal with a little rain."

He nodded. "Alright, it's a long story."

"Is it about him?" I demanded briefly.

"It's about me, I think— I think you deserve to know the truth, about us and why we're here," he struggled with the words.

"I really don't—"

"Please," he begged. "I'm not trying to get you to forgive him or us for that matter, but please just listen to what I have to say and all I need is one small favour."

I looked at his anxious expression. "You're not really his cousin, are you?"

He dropped his gaze. "No.." If this was how he was going to react over every lie that I had been told then I was sure his eyes would fall off by the time he had finished.

**Killua's P.O.V:-**

"YOU DID WHAT?" I asked Gon after he finished telling me the tale of one of his new massive accomplishments as we walked idly on the wet pavement.

"I told her we needed her help to break in the office and also, I told her everything, I told her the truth." There was an unusual gleam in his eyes.

"Why the hell did you lie to her? You know we don't need her." I tried to pretend I hadn't heard the last part.

"I know, but she thinks we do and she seemed quite amused after hearing the truth," he said smugly.

"You— why? And you didn't tell— did you?" I stammered, digging my hands in my pockets.

"Because that was the only excuse I could think of to get you to two alone somewhere." He looked at me as if comprehension would dawn upon me any time now. "And no, I didn't tell her anything about you, you'll have to do that yourself and you're welcome."

"This is stupid, why exactly would you do this?" I asked frustrated, my hands were sweating.

"Because you need to talk to her just as much as she needs to talk to you."

"I don't— she— we don't, okay?"

He rolled his eyes. "She slammed her locker door into a girl's face and got her a black eye and also got herself suspended and— well, you'll see.. And look at you, you can't stop stuttering, you barely complete any of your sentences."

"I don't want to talk to her," I opposed. "Trust me, it's no use."

"Well, I don't care what you want Killua, you owe her an explanation at the very least."

"I didn't want this, I— let me remind you that you were the one who told me to—" I justified.

"Yeah, I was the one who convinced you to let yourself off the hook for once, but was wanting to see you happy such a big crime?" He stopped pacing and stared at me.

I took a breath and held my hand to my forehead.

"Give yourself a break, you know, sometimes the most unlikely of things happen in the most unexpected time."

"You're talking about a colossal miracle."

"Accurate way to summarize your life," he complemented as he resumed walking.

I couldn't help but give a short laugh. "What are you doing, you dufus?"

"Giving your life a right turn; it's either this or a punch in the face," he added.

I stopped still for a moment and the familiar pang of how I didn't deserve him hit me harder than ever.

"You coming?" He called from ahead.

"Get lost already, dick." I murmured and followed suit.

**Claire's P.O.V:-**

I put on my boots at half past ten with my mind full of things I barely comprehended, the main being why exactly I was helping Gon out. As I walked down the stairs I reasoned that the whole father-son matter had intrigued me, at least the guy had been honest with me or maybe he was just an expert at pulling off a perfect puppy dog face.

My train of thought came to a halt when I saw my mom on the couch, watching TV and successfully ignoring me.

"I'm going out," I mumbled.

She didn't answer, she didn't even seem to notice I was there.

"It's pretty late and I'm going out," I repeated, slightly louder.

I could've been talking to the wall and be more hopeful for a reply.

"You should at least ask where I'm going," I pushed.

"I couldn't care less," she said quoting my prior words.

"I'm off to do something illegal." The ironic part was that I wasn't even lying.

"You do that," she retorted indifferently.

"Okay, then," I concluded and then exited as ignored as ever.

At the last moment I had decided I would be walking to school and there were two reasons for that: the first was that I hated driving and the second being that my being gone and careless would definitely keep my mother alerted and if my plan went alright she and I would be back on speaking terms by the time I returned. Yeah, I was too smart for my own good.

When I arrived at the parking lot Gon waved at me as to acknowledge him, which I found rather unnecessary since we weren't working with a crowd.

Beside him a fair haired figure stood casually leaned against the car; I made a mental note not to make eye contact with him.

"There's a problem actually," I informed Gon making sure that he knew I was addressing him and only him. "I couldn't find my laptop and I really—"

Right in the middle of my sentence Killua pushed a rectangular object in my hand, which I could tell, without looking, was my laptop.

"I— the." I quickly shut myself up, I wasn't prepared for unexpected stuff, okay?

That was when my gaze fell on his coat and the deep blue scarf around his neck.

"What are you trying to prove by wearing that?" I blurted out without a single thought.

He raised a silver eyebrow and I could already feel the idiotic outcome of my question. "That it's cold?" He said in an annoying matter of factly tone.

Damn it, I blew it. I gritted my teeth and followed Gon as he headed to the front gate. In one moment he swept past the wall and disappeared and in the next he beaconed me forward as he swung the gate open.

I just gaped at him and then casting a gaze back at Killua and seeing his bored expression, I guessed this wasn't something out of the ordinary for them.

The concept of a silent, noiseless school was even weirder than being here in the dark.

"So you just need me to disable the cameras?" I asked as we entered the surveillance room.

He nodded and got out as I sat comfortably down on the familiar chair. I had already been here more than once.

I decided not to bother with asking them how they had managed to unlock all the rooms.

I connected the server to my laptop and disabled the cameras, freezing the current images on the screen in place, just in case someone decided to go through tonight's recording.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Killua shifting a few steps back tapping on the screen of his phone.

"Aren't you supposed to be with Gon?"

He looked up at me and I held my breath. So long with trying not to make eye contact. "I don't see how that concerns you," he responded formally.

My face felt hot. "Well, trying to rid myself from the company of an asshole is totally my concern." I mumbled.

"Sad you feel the need to call yourself that, let me know when you succeed in relieving the world from such a pain in the ass.." He didn't even care to look up.

"Just so you—" He was just so fucking infuriating.

"Don't trouble yourself, you know you can't beat me when it comes to words," he waved me off.

I stared at him for a moment. "Yeah, you're right, especially when it comes to lies."

For just the fraction of a second, I had the satisfaction of seeing his expression alter until he composed his face again. He pretended not to have heard me.

"Why so speechless now?" I pushed. "You were bragging just a while ago. It's good to know you have something close to a conscience in there."

"Stop it," he said very quietly.

I clenched my fists. "Why? The truth doesn't settle well with you, does it?"

The silence that followed was enough to drive me insane. "I guess I can't blame you though, that's the way you were raised. Lying, killing, you learned that when others learn to walk, didn't you? Well, you can go to hell along with that fucking bunch of bastards that you call family—" I burst out.

The next event seemed to happen in a blur: Killua kicked one of the chairs in front of him to a side and it collided with the nearby wall, the noise seemed to echo throughout the whole city. He slammed his hand on the table and glared at me in a manner that took the breath out of me, making him look like the true assassin he was. "Not another word about my family."

I hated the way my hands started shaking. "You guys can go ahead and murder and destroy people's lives and I don't even get to—" I answered back while wiping the streaming tears on my face. "You coward!" I felt weak and helpless.

He grabbed both my arms and pushed me against the wall. "I've had just about enough of your shit, do you understand that? Who are you trying to fool here? Do you really think blaming me is going to be enough cover for you to hide from your own self?"

I uselessly tried to pry away his fingers. "What the hell are you talking about?" I spat back.

"Still playing innocent now? Well, let me clear it all out for you, do you really think staying in the side lines is going to keep you nice and safe? I've known you've been lying since the very moment you told me the absurd story about your adoption."

I attempted to keep my gaze steady as I looked at him. "What—"

"Don't," he interrupted. "You know one of the perks of being a good liar is that you can tell apart your own kind very easily; takes one to know one, right?" For one instant he leaned in so close I thought he was going to kiss me but then he just released me and drew back.

Before I realised what happened, my fist had struck against his cheek and his head tilted to a side. I couldn't even control my breathing when I suddenly became very aware of the severe pain surging through my whole hand.

I gasped looking at my trembling fingers. "What—" I bit my tongue to refrain from crying. "What the hell are you made of?" Water was pooling in my eyes and my knuckles felt like they had been crushed.

"I think you broke your knuckle," he said gently holding up my hand.

"Don't touch—" I protested, trying to keep myself steady through the pain.

"Come with me." He dragged me out of the room.

I moaned feeling the burning intensify with every second that passed.

The cold wind whipped my hair as I climbed into the passenger seat of his car. I honestly didn't have an ounce of strength left to argue; the ache seemed to be radiating to my head now.

"Just stay there—nothing happened—I just have to take a detour, wait for me there," Killua explained with his phone between his ear and shoulder as he started the car. He threw his mobile on the dashboard and drove swiftly out of the parking lot.

"Where are you taking me?"

"To the hospital obviously," he said remotely looking forward. "You need to get that fixed up and braced." He gestured towards my hand with his eyes.

"This is all your fucking fault," I muttered quietly.

"I wasn't the one who invited you to try off my face as a punching bag," he retorted.

When I examined his face, there wasn't even a trace of colour where I had hit him with apparently all my force. Although he seemed a bit thinner and his cheek bones more visible, if I wasn't imagining it, he looked tired.

I winced as a pricking sensation seemed to be throbbing in my fist.

He looked at me from the corner of his eye. "Just hold on a minute," he assured me.

"Do you have any ice?" I asked like the idiot I was.

"Don't have a freezer installed in this thing yet," he answered annoyed and then held up his hand.

I just stared at him in confusion before I realised he was demanding my consent to touch me, I recalled how extremely cold his hands always were.

Without another thought, I touched the back of my hand with his. His skin sent a soothing sensation in my hand and for the smallest of moments it felt like his touch was my panacea, the cure to all the problems swirling around my life, but in the next instant thoroughly consuming hatred throbbed in me.

The car stopped right in front of the local hospital, just as he moved to get out, I stopped him.

I wanted to hurt him more than anything in the world. "You know losing my dad wasn't the worst thing that happened to me," I told him, fully holding his attention. "Meeting you was."

He stopped still and then out eyes met.

It was just a glimpse, but I saw in the sapphire blue ocean of his eyes a thousand pebbles of tragedies and hurt, where I had just thrown an addition of my own. It sunk and was out of sight as soon as it came. He sat there motionless until a movement in my peripheral vision made me jerk my head: the streetlights were blinking furiously.

Killua straightened instantly, clutching at the steering wheel and everything around us became abnormally still.

I got out of the car silently as I felt the pain surging, without shutting the door. I kept it wide open and stared at him completely expecting him to get out and escort me inside the hospital.

He leaned towards me and it seemed as if he was reaching for my hand, but as a blow to both my selfishness and self esteem, he reached for the handle, slammed the door in my face and drove away.

It occurred to me, as I stood in the haunting night, that to an onlooker I might have just been a person to whom he offered a ride or someone he merely asked for directions; two strangers joined temporarily by fate only to never see one another again.

* * *

_The boy with the hair as silver as the frost casted his gaze on the brunette as she was staring at the downpour from the car window._

_"Seriously? You wanna add being happy to the long list of things that scare the hell out of you?" His tone was very calm._

_She turned to look at him with her lips pursed. "I'm only afraid of blood," she maffled quietly._

_He raised an eyebrow at her in challenge. "Actually, you're scared of blood, the dark, cats, needles, staring crowds, cafeterias, cars, the occasional breathing of your cell phone and possibly threatening physical contact with water. Did I miss anything?"_

_She blinked at him, half embarrassed and half in awe. She was amused at how he had thought her important enough to remember these little details about her. "Yeah, it sounds like quite a broad subject when you say it like that..." She murmured._

_"My point is, nobody has any idea when they're going to end up dead and even they reach the extreme, it's still a pretty short life, Claire." He crossed his arms behind his neck. "What I'm saying is: we don't have an eternity so what we do is make memories, seize the moment."_

_She stopped breathing for a moment then glanced at him affectionately. "I'm annoying as hell, aren't I?"_

_"Pretty much, yeah," he agreed._

_"You should kick me out of your car right now," she advised._

_"You're right, shut the door in your face and leave you here in the rain, make you walk back home."_

_Barely a minute passed that she got out and shut the door behind her._

_"Hey__—__Claire!" He called, his eyes widening. "I was kidding," he convinced as he followed her outside._

_She stood right next to the hood of his car, her long, brown hair completely drenched along with the sweater she was wearing over her pyjamas._

_He walked to her while unzipping his jacket. "What the hell?" He asked with his eyebrows raised._

_"I love the rain," she told him, her face soaked. "I've made one of my best memories ever here."_

_He took off his jacket and placed it around her. "You'll catch a cold," he scolded._

_She ignored him and moved her hands to touch his face, tracing his cheekbones, his jaw and then his lips. "I_—_," she whispered slowly. "Killua, I_—_" she breathed irregularly and silent tears rolled down her cheeks but were successfully disguised by the rain._

_"What is it?" He intertwined his fingers with hers._

_Her lips trembled with the weight of the words she was about to say. The idea of surrendering herself to him horrified and pleased her at the same time._

_She got on her toes and put her lips against his._

_He lifted her up so she could easily reach him._

_There, with her hands frozen and her heart on fire she realized he had missed one thing in the list of things she was afraid of: her fear of losing him._

_As the outnumbered beats of the heart, so raw and so pure,_

_so are the salient moments when the poison becomes the cure._


	18. Presage

Once again on time. Woop, woop. Your reviews, your support and your love is _everything_, I can never thank you guys enough. Now, I'm gonna be keeping this author's note short since the chapter itself is pretty long. I have written two chapters ahead of this and I'll be updating on the 10th of the next month (yay, I finally have an updating schedule; at least for a few months).

Also, I wanted to clarify that the previous plot is almost the same, except that here we're going to be considering that Gon managed to defeat Pitou without putting his life in danger, he never got to meet Ging as he didn't show up at the elections and of course, Killua and Gon never parted. Now, let me take you on a roller coaster of emotions.

Chapter: 18

* * *

**"Presage."**

* * *

_The clouds didn't rumble. There was a fine sheet of splattering rain pouring to what seemed everywhere._

_The brunette extended her palm and felt small droplets dissolve on her skin. She took a few steps forward as she spotted the light-haired figure, dressed in dark. He threw a deep, penetrating gaze at the sky._

_"Where are we?" she asked, shortening the distance between them._

_"In my dream, I guess," he answered, still not looking at her. "That's probably why you're actually addressing me."_

_She wore a small, sad smile. "Why here?" she asked him, looking around. "The rain, in the place we first kissed?"_

_She said it so effortlessly, it surprised him; he dug his hands into his pockets. "I think this is where—" he paused to weigh his words. "This is where my dreams began." He, at last, met her gaze and she saw emotions that startled her._

_"So, if this is your dream, then why am I actually able to think and feel?" she asked curiously._

_He shrugged. "I don't know; this definitely doesn't exist. Maybe it's your dream," he suggested._

_She carefully studied his face; he looked torn—devastated. There was a period of deep and torturing silence._

_"Do you hate me?" he finally asked._

_There was a pause—a very short pause—and she shook her head. "I don't hate you," she confessed. "You came into my life at a time when I was moving aimlessly down a path towards utterly nothing; you picked me up when I was scattered beyond repair. You're my savior, I could never hate you."_

_He exhaled and his condensed, misty breath spun around and took off into the cold air, maybe taking a fragment of his soul with it._

_She walked to him and took his hand and it was like his emotions were crashing down on him all at once._

_He looked at her wide-eyed._

_"She's not in her senses right now, she's shut down every part of her that could lead to hurting in any way" she said. "—at least she's tried to," she corrected. " She's blaming you for something you had no hand in. She just needs someone to accuse, someone who can be the reason her life is so screwed up right now." She paused. "This won't last long," she promised. "When she regains control of her mind, she'll realize that. But then she'll find another excuse to accuse you of something."_

_He studied her eyes carefully, as if he could read her thoughts._

_"You lied to her," she stated. "About everything."_

_Suddenly, there was a roar of lightning and they both looked up; the sky was an ominous grey._

_"You should have told her yourself. One way or another, she would have understood."_

_Her words triggered thoughts in his mind that roamed in a far edges of his brain. All that could have been: only if—maybe if he did—would she—_

_"I tried to tell her," he revealed. "But—everything that happened—she was already consumed."_

_"Then let her know that," she advised._

_He looked at her surprised._

_"She might be stubborn and insensible at times but she's still human; try your luck, who knows, a miracle might happen."_

_"Who are you?" he finally asked. "Her yang twin?"_

_Her face went blank for an instant and then she laughed a loud laugh that seemed to echo from every corner._

_He loved that laugh, God knew how long it had been since he had last heard it._

_"Her guardian angel," she said pensively. "No— her conscience, that seems about right."_

_"So, you're her?" he questioned._

_"I am," she assured. "Just a part right now, but I'll be her when she gets back to her senses."_

_He looked at her and then to his feet, now completely drenched from the rain._

_"Everything will be fine," she comforted kissing his temple. "Just keep hoping."_

* * *

I exited the gym after getting a leave from my P.E. instructor. Just showing my braced hand had done me miracles and not just at school; my mom also had started speaking to me again— she even fixed my hair.

As I walked down the hallway, my eyes felt so tired that I couldn't further ignore the three sleepless nights I had gone through to complete all my previous assignments.

I sighed as I stood in front of the beige door with the tag indicating that this was Mr. Kiyeshi Isawa's office. I didn't know him and he was supposed to be the one teaching us our six month philosophy course, which had started in January... Summary: I had missed more than 'just a few' classes.

I knocked lightly as I took out the folded piece of paper from my pocket.

"Yes?" called a heavy voice from inside.

I opened the door to reveal a black-haired man sitting behind the desk. He had huge eyes and a beard that I thought made him look like an axe murderer.

"Mr. Isawa?" I confirmed.

"Yes?" he repeated annoyed, not looking up from a pile of sheets before him.

I put the application on the table.

He looked at me, then at the page I had just placed, and then at me again, this time raising an eyebrow.

When I just gazed back with a bored expression, he picked it up as he read through, his eyes trailing across the page. As he finished he stared up at me with an expression that clearly said 'are you serious?'

I just shrugged and looked away.

"You've missed more than twenty of my classes and you want to recover your grades?" he asked somewhere between irritated and amused.

"Yeah," I replied simply, waiting for his reaction.

"Do you know anything about the course?" he challenged.

"No," I answered honestly. "But I can manage."

I couldn't believe it, but I thought I actually saw him roll his eyes at me.

I bit my lip to control my temper.

"Even if you could, why exactly would I waste any of my time trying to help you go through the whole course again? Are you some sort of royalty?" he muttered, returning his attention to the sheets in front of him.

I gritted my teeth. What sort of a fucking asshole was this guy? "Are you?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

After a moment's silence he glared at me and I glared back. I seriously had horrible anger problems. Instead of hearing something similar to 'detention', I swear I saw the hint of a smile on his face.

He took my application again and read it once more. "You haven't attended any of your classes for over a month, can I ask why?" His tone was a lot more interested now.

"No," I retorted. I honestly couldn't believe myself right now. What was I doing?

I thought I saw his eyes grow larger as if he was struggling to keep himself from laughing. "Why were you suspended?" I could tell he was trying to keep his voice composed.

"I'm sure it's written on there," I mumbled, feeling embarrassed.

"It is," he admitted and I saw his eyes light up. "But I'd like to hear it from you."

I just stared at him. "Are you serious?" I refrained from adding 'fucking'.

"Do you want this assignment or not?" he debriefed amused— he even put down the pages and rested his chin on his fist and for a moment I had the impression that I was looking at an older version of Killua.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "I..." I began slowly, "...hit a girl on the face." There was a pause after which I added. "With a locker door." I emphasized each word carefully.

He was wearing a peculiar expression, I could tell he was just dying to burst out laughing right now. He took a piece of paper and handed it to me after writing down something on it. "Get this book from the library, full essay on the first four chapters, to be handed in by next week."

I nodded and walked to the door.

"I'm very strict when it comes to marking," he warned.

I gave him a sarcastic look. "Good for you," I complimented as I was about to exited.

"What's your name again?" he asked curiously, sounding like a vital piece of information was missing from his life.

"Claire Gaspardo," I mumbled. When I shut the door behind me, I thought I heard a loud chuckle. I pursed my lips and decided that maybe I should take precaution and take a look at someone else's assignment to avoid getting a bad grade, but sadly, there was only one person I could think of.

I found Nora by her locker, arranging her books according to the day's schedule, which she had been doing since the fifth grade.

I sighed, she was probably the last person I wanted to talk to right now. I decided to make this quick and forward.

"Hey, can I have a look at your philosophy report?" I mumbled.

She looked at me as if I had murdered her family, then turned away. "No, I don't think you can," she answered dryly.

I raised my eyebrows. "What's your problem?" I asked, confused. "I just want to see the pattern of the essays."

"I don't understand why you're getting such an easy chance to recover your grades." Her tone was hard as she continued to place the books in her hands.

I rolled my eyes. "And that's bothering you because...?" I asked sceptically.

"You don't get to use me when you need me, okay?"

I gritted my teeth. "Isn't that what you've been doing since elementary school?" I challenged. I didn't even know why I was replying to her, this was probably one of the most stupid arguments I had taken part in.

At last, she faced me and narrowed her eyes. "You're such a bitch," she spat immediately and I knew she had been holding this in for way too long.

I sighed. "Get lost." I waved her off as I walked past her. My temper was already becoming threateningly dangerous.

"Attention-seeking slut!" she said from behind. "You must be so glad your dad's dead since you're always desperate for the spotlight, aren't you? From—"

I didn't even know when I had lunged at her. Anger was throbbing in me at an uncontrollable rate. I only processed what I was about to do when I found that I was no longer on my feet.

"LET ME GO!" I bellowed at Killua as he walked down the hallway with me thrown over his shoulder with Nora's horrified figure becoming smaller and smaller along with the crowd of people all looking at us with their mouths wide open. "Put me down this instant!" I struggled to free myself from his grip.

It was no use, he didn't even bulge nor did he bother to answer.

"Killua, I swear—"

"Shut up," he said in a voice that was so cold, I bit my own tongue in the process.

He only put me down when we were in the deserted gym.

"What exactly are you trying to do?" He asked me, glaring in a manner that left me breathless.

"Why are—" I attempted to answer, but realised I didn't have any words.

"I can't ask you whether you have any sanity left because sadly, I know the answer. Since you've already had yourself suspended once, I suggest keeping that idiotic ass of yours out of trouble unless you care to be expelled."

I had to lift my head to meet his gaze. "How does that concern you?"

"Frankly, I couldn't care any less what you do or don't but I think for a second you'd want to reflect on the outcome of what would've happened if you actually got away with what you were about to do? I think you mother would be pleased, especially after everything you're already putting her through," he concluded.

I bit my lower lip and looked to my feet. I would die before admitting that he was right. I felt a rush of embarrassment and loathing that I couldn't describe. "I hate you," I blurted out.

This time he didn't show any change in his expression, he simply shook his head and walked away.

I tried not to notice, as I watched him leave, how tight the muscles of his neck were pulled back.

The start of February was cold and it even snowed somewhere in the middle, the freezing wind made everything pass in a blur. My life had fell into a routine of only exercising my mind on giving extra attention to my studies. My grades were back to normal and I had even managed to pull off an A in my philosophy paper, which I found was something impressive since I was the only one who accomplished such a feat.

I would've even enjoyed the subject if the person teaching it wasn't such a deranged jerk to me the whole time. On my first day in his class, I was late and then made the mistake of walking right up to him to hand in my assignment.

"Do you think showing up late and handing in the assignment early makes you look cool?" he whispered as he took the file. He actually asked me that. The asshole actually said that to me.

I looked him straight in the eye. "Yeah, pretty much."

He glanced once at my report and then turned back to me. "What is a sin, Miss Gaspardo?" he asked expectantly.

"Your beard," I muttered as I made my way to the only empty seat.

He boomed with laughter behind me and the whole class looked at me like I had sprouted a tentacle, everyone except Killua, who was looking at the man with a curious expression. I didn't realise I was staring at him until he met my gaze. I panicked and tripped over my own feet. When I got back up and sat down, I saw Mr. Isawa biting back a grin. I would've even gone around asking who the hell had hired this idiot but after my first class, it was clear that he was incredibly good at what he taught.

March swirled by with me trying to avoid reacting on the fact that Killua and I were partners in chemistry labs. He was contributing equally to reach a successful number of zero in terms of communication in more than half of the classes that we shared.

Killua's P.O.V:-

The snow covered ground seemed to be emanating a weak glow into the air. The frost settled on the branches of the trees was like a slow yet painless death. I sat on the frozen bench in the deserted park, staring off into the unknown.

The cold was so severe that it was nearly impossible to feel anything. I closed my eyes trying to determine where and why my body was hurting, but deep within, I knew it very well that my pain had nothing to do with that: my soul was tired, so agonizingly tired.

I wondered sometimes if there really was a God out there and then sometimes I imagined what it would be like to have children; both thoughts horrified me somehow. I felt like I didn't exist but pain reached me anyhow.

There were memories that scared me, ties in my life that were poisonous yet inextinguishable. There were conflicts in my mind that were tearing me apart and then there was this dark, seeping fear that I wasn't born to or meant to feel. I wasn't capable of emotions, the sole purpose of my life was and would always be—

My heavily distracted brain didn't register the mass of white fluff dashing towards me. The snowball hit my face with full force an instant after I shut my eyelids tightly.

"Asshole," I muttered holding back a grin as I wiped the snow off my face with my hand.

I heard Gon's laughter from nearby.

When I opened my eyes again he was seated beside me with a huge grin and a beanie over his head. "God, that was satisfying," he commented.

"You piece of shit, what exactly was that for?" I demanded raising an eyebrow.

"That's simple," he explained. "You, your brain, and your thoughts are things that can't be allowed to be alone, especially in such a depressing place like this."

I rolled my eyes and a silence followed in which we both looked at the grey sky above us. "We should get it over with," I decided.

"What?" he asked, looking at me.

"We found nothing in both his apartment and his office so the only option we have left is to ask the man himself; I think we should get it over with as soon as possible," I clarified.

"What's the hurry?" His tone implied that he knew the exact answer.

"I wanna leave," I confessed.

He met my gaze. "I wanna stay."

"Why? Why would you want to waste our time here?" I debriefed.

"I know what you're trying to do." He leaned his head back and didn't look at me. "Running away won't stop the pain."

I didn't answer because I didn't want to or maybe because I didn't have one.

"I wanna stay," he repeated. "I like settling down, even just for a while," he mumbled.

I nodded. "We can go and stay anywhere you want, just—" I convinced.

"Killua, I wanna graduate. I mean, what's the point of leaving right now? It's not like we have a precise goal waiting out there for us." He sighed. "Sometimes I think it's just plain stupid how I've got you to—"

I smashed the snowball into his face before he had even a chance to understand what I was doing.

He remained frozen for a minute, then turned to look at me as he ran a hand over his face. "Dick," he cursed.

I just smirked at him until his composure broke and we both howled with laughter for no damn reason.

"It's just two months," he persuaded.

I sighed and remained silent.

"I know you think that you're incapable of feeling, Killua," he confessed. "But you're actually one of the most perceptive and emotionally sensitive people I know and I think you're pretty amazing."

I put my hands in my pockets and stared at the ground. "What difference does it make?"

"All in the World," he replied. "You'll see."

I extended my hand and let a snowflake fall neatly in the middle of my palm. Cold, empty and utterly meaningless, just as my life was.

Claire's P.O.V:-

It was about three in the morning when I leaned my head against the headboard in defeat, admitting, at last, that sleep wasn't going to come. My gaze fell onto my laptop, lying ignored on the side table. I extended my hand and gently traced its logo with my fingers.

I remember clearly that I had left it behind in the office the night I had sneaked into school with Killua and Gon, but not so surprisingly, it had been here the very second I had returned from the hospital. I had considered smashing it more than once after that but my dad had given it to me on my last birthday; it was the only thing that kept me from destroying it every single time.

"Do you really think blaming me is going to be enough cover for you to hide from your own self?"

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the same exact words that had been torturing me every night. "No." I sighed, covering my face with my hands. "No, no, no." There was no fucking logical explanation on how he knew about—

And then it hit me almost immediately and my sight darted to my laptop. Killua had my laptop that night—I didn't know why, but he did. I was reading through the article about Ingrid a few nights back and I had slammed my laptop shut without powering it off; he had walked in and there was no doubt that made him suspicious— did he know her?

I bit my thumb. He was a member of the World's biggest family of assassins and she— I was more than sure that she was a big deal. He must know her and he might've just assumed— or maybe it didn't have anything to do with that at all.

"You know one of the perks of being a good liar is that you can tell apart your own kind very easily; takes one to know one, right?"

"I've known you've been lying since the very moment you told me the absurd story about your adoption."

I sighed. But I wasn't sure if it was just out of relief. "There's no fucking logical explanation," I said out loud to assure myself. Maybe he only knew that I was lying but didn't know specifically what I was hiding. If I just hadn't made this up to put my mind at peace, then this could be considered a fairly convincing story.

To distract myself, I grabbed my phone and just went through my contacts. I deleted his number quickly before I had a chance to think about it and took a breath; then, I went through my call log and deleted all the calls that had been directed to his number. It took quite some time. My fingers only stopped tapping when I came to a familiar number that I had not called for more than six months.

I hit dial before actually thinking of what I was doing. There was no dial tone, just a voice informing me that the number was currently powered off; I wanted to tell them they better add forever in place of currently.

I was about to throw my phone against the wall when the voice mail message started playing: "Hello, you've reached the voicemail of Hachiro Ajibana, you can leave a message after the beep," said a man's nervous voice and then just before the beep sounded he added a faint, "Did I do it right?" And I could hear my own laughter in the background.

My fingers froze and my heart stopped beating. I only realized my mobile had escaped my fingers when I heard it fall to the floor with loud thud. I didn't want to cry—and somehow I knew I wasn't going to.

Out of nowhere, I found myself considering what my dad would think of me if he saw me now. I closed my eyes and cradled my head in my hands. And there in full force, a maddening pain hit my body and I knew it was all back.

The door opened and my mom peeked through as noiselessly as possible.

I looked at her and sighed. "Did I wake you?" I asked feeling ashamed as I recalled the noise that I had just made by dropping my phone.

"Oh, no, no," she said as she entered. "I was—in the kitchen. I just can't stop eating," she admitted guiltily.

I gave her a feeble smile. There was no denying that. She had become really huge during these past months and so had her appetite.

She sat down next to me and met my gaze. It was like she already knew everything.

"I'm so, so, so sorry about everything and I love you. Please don't say it's okay," I pleaded ranting breathlessly. God, it hurt like hell.

"Are you satisfied with your life?" she asked, startling me.

"What?"

"Do you feel...I don't know, some kind of hole? An empty space somewhere you can't describe?"

I tried to keep my expression composed. I didn't want to admit she was right and I certainly didn't want to hear where she was going.

She took my hand and shook her head. "When was the last time you actually laughed?" she demanded.

I passed a hand through my hair and bit my lip. "Mom, there are things you don't know and Killua—"

"Oh, I know," she interrupted. "I'm not pretending I know every single detail of your life and I know how fucking complicated life gets. I don't know what happened to you two." She squeezed my hand lightly. "But nothing is too big to get in the way of love and I'm saying this because I've seen what kind of a person that boy is. Whatever happened between you and Killua, fix it Claire, because I know you can and I know if you don't, you'll regret it."

She left before I had the chance to answer, leaving me to deal with my fucking mind and thoughts alone. For the first time in forever, even though every single part of me was aching, I felt like my dad was right next to me. I knew what to do and not even the fact that I was the biggest coward in the world would help me delay it.

I was rushing out of the front door noiselessly when I caught sight of the clock indicating that it was six am. I blinked, feeling the sleeplessness prick my eyes, and sat down on the cold steps of my neighbour's door. The pavement was frosty; winters gave this city an excuse to have appropriate weather, otherwise it didn't really matter: it could be August and there would be rain. I swear the sky here had a mind of its own.

I wasn't startled when the door opened behind me. Mr. Domoto was a man who believed in rising along with the sun, he had even started, at one point when I was in seventh grade, to force me to accompany him on his stupid morning walks. Gladly, my incessant amount of tripping had rescued me out of this one and he had decided dragging me out with him on his walks wasn't worth the trouble.

"Why do you think some people like toast and jam while others eat cereal?" I mumbled. "Well, I've been thinking about it all night. So, you know I pondered that maybe people who like toast have more in control of their lives, like they have a firm ground and know their boundaries because that's what toast is like, but cereal people are just like drowning in the orbit of their own little world. Do you eat toast?" I turned to see his perplexed expression. "I'm not high if that's what you're thinking and I'm not gonna leave until you talk to me." I clarified.

He didn't answer and I didn't expect him to.

"You can shut the door if you want, I'll just keep sitting here and hoping to get sick or something," I said as I turned my back on him.

I heard a loud sigh.

"Have you noticed how when my life starts to suck, I just take it out on everyone around me?" My voice was very casual. "And I try to mask my stupid flaws by hiding behind others. Damn, I'm a shitty person," I remarked. "Because, it couldn't be clearer that I'm the worthless piece of crap and I'm the one who got dumped and can't get over it." I wasn't only confessing to him, this was a first for myself as well.

"Listen—" he began.

"Stop feeling bad for me, okay? I'm sure you value your sanity and I don't have any so don't try and pity me, I really hate that and between me and that trashcan over there, it's very clear who deserves to be felt sorry for and who doesn't." My gaze was fixed on the window of the house in front of us. "But, you know, I wanna ask all you people something; you, my mom and..." My voice faded, I couldn't bring myself to say his name. "Every time, every chance I get, I insult you people like hell, I consume you in every way possible; why, for just even once haven't you guys answered back? I'm just rubbish, I wish you would say something," I mused, leaning my chin on my palm.

"Have you had breakfast?" he asked worriedly.

I just shook my head and sighed.

I heard him walk away and minutes later he sat beside me with a box of doughnuts, offering them to me.

I took one and began picking on it with my fingers.

"Eat," he ordered.

I put a small piece in my mouth. "What makes people good?" I questioned as I chewed slowly. "Is it doing the right things or staying away from the wrong ones? Because, you know, I've never done drugs, I have never smoked, I've never— I've never done anything but that doesn't make me a good person. I think that's probably because I haven't done anything because I'm just afraid of these things, not of doing wrong." I looked at him for an answer.

He opened his mouth to speak but I interrupted him again.

"If you're attempting to rephrase the same lectures that you've been giving me since seven years ago, in which you tell me all about how and kind and good I am— don't," I pleaded. "I don't pray, I don't know what I'm supposed to make of that, you know? I don't know my faith, which is hilarious considering that all I actually think about is myself. But I think I'd rather be reckless and courageous than weak and fake," I emphasised, toying with the food in my hands but not taking a bite.

This time I knew he wasn't going to say anything because when I started to question myself, he was always the best listener— and he really did listen, not just reply but really understood.

"Where do you feel love?" I inquired quietly. "I only feel it in my chest. But hate, on the other hand, I— I feel everywhere, just everywhere," I whispered, leaning my head against his shoulder.

He put arm around me. "Right now, you need to remind yourself that you're human and that means you have every right to make mistakes—"

"Aren't you? Aren't my mom and—?" I stopped again. "Don't you guys have feelings?"

"You're only seventeen," he justified.

"So is Kill—" I paused.

I realized there wasn't much difference in the way our lives were playing out right now, yet, contrary to my behaviour, he was as composed as hell.

"I miss my dad so much," I admitted, for the first time in half a year, hating the moisture I felt in my eyes. "I love you, you're such a great person," I told him looking straight in his eyes. "Thank you for being here when my dad isn't."

And then I cried. I just sat there and cried because I knew I had to. It felt so utterly liberating like I was releasing a poison from within me.

I stayed with Mr. Domoto for the rest of the day, just talking about nothing in particular, just being with him, just watching lame TV shows. When he told me he had dinner with his girlfriend and I saw that it was now dark outside, I took it as my cue to leave.

"I'm getting married," he said awkwardly just as I was about the leave, standing at the doorway.

I turned around and stared at him with my mouth hanging wide open until I regained my senses and couldn't help but scream. He begged me to shut up and I finally did when he informed me that he hadn't told my mom, so I just ran home like an idiot.

I fidgeted with the knob of the door until I finally managed to open it. My mom wasn't in the TV-lounge nor in the kitchen.

"Mom?" I called upstairs, when there was no reply, I just decided to check her room. I paused to look at the shards of glass lying just by the door, when I pushed it open I gasped loudly.

She was lying unconscious on the floor with shattered pieces of glass to her side.

"MOM!" I shouted as I attempted to lift her and shake her awake. "Oh, God, mom just please open your eyes," I chanted as I tried to calm myself enough to get her out of here and I seemed to have gotten my wish.

She did open her eyes, but when that happened I saw the way they seemed to be rolling back and she let out such a loud, painful, piercing cry that I lost the ability to breathe.

"Please, oh my God, just let me—"

There was another painful shriek and then another and they didn't stop and I didn't know what to do. I regained enough control of my legs to attempt to run to Mr. Domoto before remembering that he wasn't at home.

"Please." I sobbed. "Just hold on—" I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed the number which I had deleted the previous night but nevertheless, knew by heart. Each ring and each scream killed me from the inside.

As my windpipe seemed to get tighter and tighter a voice in my head told me he wouldn't pick up and even if he did, why would he help me?

"Claire?" Killua's soothing voice addressed me.

I breathed in enough air in order to speak. "Killua—" I choked out. "Killua, my mom— there's something wrong with her please—" and there was another loud cry, I could only weep helplessly now.

The other line went dead and I felt like every living part of me demised with it. I felt so weak as I just was hung there unable to move unable to help my mother in anyway and my mind telling me it was what I deserved, I deserved to be left stranded by him for everything that I had done. I tried to stand but that seemed impossible— my legs had given out.

That was it. I was going to just sit here numbly like a coward and my mother would die beside me. Who was the murderer now?

It could have been an eternity, the time I just hung there devoid of any feeling. Every breath I took hurt and every time my mother screamed, seemed like the last.

In one overwhelming moment, Killua pushed the door open and rushed in as he glanced for a few fatal moments at my mom and then picked her up and carried her outside.

I stood up nearly automatically, this time catching enough breath to follow him to the lounge. I couldn't clearly see anything as tears were swimming in my eyes.

"What's happening to her?" I asked in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

He jerked his shoulders and held her more carefully. "She's in labour," he stated. "Go open the door of my car," he commanded without further delay.

I stood there frozen. "No," I denied. "She's barely started the seventh month, she—"

"GET OUT AND OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!" his voice echoed from all around me, even drowning my mom's maddening cries.

I ran without further argument and followed his orders.

When Killua managed to lie her down on the backseat, she stopped screaming; her eyes closed and her head hung to a side like she was asleep.

I got into the passenger seat as Killua shut his door and stared back at her seemingly lifeless body, without the strength to utter a single word. I lost any feeling in my legs as I saw the crimson coloured liquid staining her shirt. "Killua—" I breathed. "Oh, God, Killua, she's bleeding, KILLUA, SHE'S BLEEDING!" I shrieked, losing my mind.

He immediately glanced at her and then at me.

"We won't— she won't get there in time, I— no," I whispered, feeling consciousness slowly leave me.

He opened the door and got out of the driver's seat. "Take off your hood," he ordered and took out my mother from the back seat.

I obeyed wordlessly as I got out, still struggling with my breathing.

In one swift movement, he flung her over his back and instructed me to hold the overall around her. He then grabbed both the sleeves under his teeth and had a strong grip on her.

"You—" I began feebly. I couldn't comprehend anything.

Then, as if the world suddenly stopped revolving, a bright flash of light emanated from Killua and in the next instant he was glowing furiously. Like lightning...like a God.

He lowered his head and, for a moment, it seemed as if he was praying and in another, his figure dashed away as if he was never there in the first place.

For what appeared to be a century, I just stood there shaking like an idiot. When I managed to gather enough strength, I ran across the street and then to the next. I wasn't really sure what I was doing but I did know that there was no fucking way I could drive in this state of mind.

Rushing into the familiar building, I darted up the stairs and then to the corridor, stopping only when I was standing breathlessly in front of the black door.

I struck it repeatedly with my fist, my other hand was on my knee as I tried to catch my breath.

The door opened, revealing Gon's tall figure staring at me with wide eyes. "Claire, what's—"

I grabbed his hand at the speed of light and pulled him behind me. "I'll explain everything— just come with me, HURRY!" I barked.

He kept asking ignored questions as we ran back to my street and I climbed into the passenger seat of Killua's abandoned car.

Gon took it as some kind of a cue and got in the driver's seat. "Where do you need to go?" He asked.

I kept breathing loudly as I realized I didn't have a certain answer to that. To which hospital did Killua take my mom exactly? "To the nearest hospital." I forced the words out of my throat.

He gave one small nod and started the engine; the key was already in place.

"What's going on?" He asked as he reversed the car.

I extended both my arms and closed my eyes then shook my hands with all my strength trying to restore any feeling in my flesh.

He looked at me with a confused expression as he pulled out.

I only found my voice when we were driving on the main road.

"My mom's in labour," I breathed. "Killua took her to the hospital."

"Oh, Killua—?" he asked, demented.

"He just carried her on his back and like— started glowing all of a sudden...literally," I added just so he wouldn't think me insane. "And then he just like— he zoomed away and I honestly considered my mental health there for a second— I think I'm probably just like really drunk or something," I blabbered. "Is that normal for you guys?" I asked in a small voice.

He turned from the windshield to glance at me with a guilty face. "Yes."

I passed a hand through my hair. "Are you guys some sort of wizards or—"

"Hunters," he corrected. "I told you that," he reminded.

"Right," I recalled. "Can all Hunters do these shiny thingies?"

"Well— sort of, if you're a nen user," he explained.

I gaped at him. "Okay, I'm gonna pretend I know what you're saying," I stated. "Just please keep talking to me, about anything, I feel like I'm gonna jump out of the car right now if I'm not distracted."

He scratched his head awkwardly as he stopped for the red light. "What should I say?" he asked nervously.

I bit my lip nervously. "Isn't Killua an assassin? How come he's a Hunter too?" I debriefed as I fidgeted with my hands.

He looked at me from the corner of his eye as the car moved forward. "Killua _was_ an assassin," he cleared. "He left his family when he was twelve."

I stared at him blankly. "What do you mean Killua _left_ his family?" I emphasized on the word left a bit too much.

He took a turn. "He— am I really the person you want to hear this story from?" he asked in a weird tone.

"Yes," I answered immediately. "What the hell does this all mean?" I asked loudly.

"Killua— he hasn't had contact with anyone from his family for over five years." His hands tightened on the steering wheel.

"But— why did he leave?"

Gon sighed and looked at me. "He has this thing with expectations. You must've noticed how he's good at practically everything he does and he showed great potential for running the family business; his life was already planned out for him and he— he didn't want any of it."

I recalled how Keitomaro had been referring to Killua as the Zoldyck's heir. "So he didn't have anything to do with—" I paused, unable to speak further.

"The holocaust at the auction, yes," he completed for me.

I stared blankly at the windshield as Gon kept driving in silence. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me any of this?" I asked, outraged after a moment.

He gazed at me in confusion. "You told me not to mention him the last time we spoke," he justified.

My eyes widened as I looked at him. "To hell with what I said!" I said exasperated. "This is absurd!" I gasped as I held my head in my hands.

"I thought he told you everything and you didn't believe him that day you were in the surveillance room," he clarified.

"He told you that?" I asked murderously.

"He didn't say anything, he wouldn't tell me what happened," he said defensively.

"Wow," I commented, feeling utterly stupid. "He still lied to you about everything," said a little voice in my head. "He— he could've just told me the truth before all of this— I mean, I can't guarantee it, but I think I might have understood," I mumbled, trying to convince myself along with him.

"He should have," Gon agreed.

It was like a small flash, but I suddenly remembered the morning after the homecoming dance when Killua wanted to tell me something...and he asked me if I trusted him. Oh, fuck.

I only regained my senses when we parked right in front of the same hospital where Killua had dropped me after I broke my knuckle.

I just walked beside Gon, too mentally unstable to try to run.

"Hana Ajibana," I said to the receptionist.

Her eyes trailed down the computer screen. "I'm sorry, her name isn't here."

"She— uh— she must've been taken to the delivery room," I suggested.

She shook her head again. "We have about more than fifty births everyday," she to.

Maybe Killua didn't bring her here. I looked at Gon for help.

"There was a silver haired boy with her," he tried.

Bingo. Her eyes lit up immediately in recognition. "Third floor, first room to the left; you should stay in the waiting area."

I almost rolled my eyes as I followed Gon to the elevator. Of course, it was impossible not to notice Killua.

When he pressed the button for the third floor, I felt all the panic return to my body in a second and started pacing around the small space.

"It's gonna be okay," he comforted.

"Yeah," I said as I nodded crazily and shook my sweaty hands. "It's gonna be alright— perfectly okay."

But as soon as the elevator doors opened I ran out like there was no tomorrow. Taking a left at the corridor as I was instructed, I almost tripped but luckily Gon caught my arm just in time.

"Relax," he said as we walked reading the tags above the doors, making sure we were in the right place but I didn't have to look for long because I saw him: He was in one of the seats in the waiting area, his hands clasped under his chin as he looked vacantly at the wall. Then, he saw us approach and his gaze moved to met mine.

He stood up, offering me his seat and shifted to the next.

Gon and I sat on either side of him without a word.

He turned to me, his eyes looking very tired. "She's going to be okay," he informed.

I stared at him speechlessly; I couldn't take my eyes off his. I didn't even know who I was anymore, because in that fucking moment I felt like I couldn't love him more in my whole life than I did right now.

He eventually looked away and handed me something that was placed on his lap. "Sorry, it's ruined," he said as he revealed my torn and bloodied hoodie.

I blinked at him for several seconds before taking it and throwing it in the bin beside me.

There was a painful silence for a few minutes before I took out my phone from my pocket and tried to dial with my shaking hands. It was hopeless, my whole body was trembling like hell.

He took it from my hand.

"Your grandmother?" he asked wearily.

I nodded.

He tapped quickly a few times on the screen before offering it back to me.

I shook my head. "I—can't," I choked out.

He then held it to his ear and after a moment, started speaking calmly, explaining the situation very carefully.

I couldn't believe just how composed he was after everything that had just happened. I had done literally nothing but I still felt exhausted.

When he was done I asked him to tell Mr. Domoto next; he obliged without a word.

I didn't know what time it was, I didn't know how long it had been that we just sat there until I found it incredibly hard to remain awake.

"Close your eyes," Killua whispered in my ear as he placed my head on his shoulder.

"You won't leave, will you?" I mumbled, barely conscious.

"I'm here," he assured and I felt like I was home after a really long time.

When I opened my eyes again, I heard murmuring and I saw Mr. Domoto talking in whispers to Killua and Gon.

"What time is it?" I asked, feeling disoriented.

Killua had barely finished informing me that it was past three in the morning when a very young looking nurse walked to us. "Congratulations! It's a girl," she announced excitedly.

Everyone stood up simultaneously and I could feel the tears pricking my eyes. I became aware of just how loudly I started crying when Killua rubbed my shoulder lightly and Mr. Domoto hugged me.

Two tissues, a glass of water, and an hour and a half later, I was sitting on the foot of my mom's bed trying to ignore the blood bag on her side.

There were several tubes connected to both her wrists and enormous black circles under her eyes.

I had just come in since they wouldn't allow it before and when I tried talking to her I was interrupted by a call from my nonna informing me the she was going to board the first flight here and a whole fifteen minutes of me trying to get her to stop crying.

"You did a great job," I complemented. "Dad would be so proud," I added, trying to keep my voice steady.

She smiled weakly at me.

"Have you decided a name?" I asked.

She leaned her head back. "Well, considering that I've had a lot of time to think about it, I should have come up with something awesome," she said tiredly. "But instead I just gave up and thought of using the Twilight idea of combining our mothers' names and that didn't go very well, I got— let's not mention it," she said, rolling her eyes.

"That's pretty lame."

"But," she interjected. "Just before I woke up, I saw Hachiro," she announced proudly.

I rolled my eyes at her. "And he suggested a name?"

"Oh, no," she said. "He sucked at that just as much as I did. So, we both agreed on something."

I raised an eyebrow at her. Maybe she was still a bit drugged. "What?"

"Well it's obvious, isn't it? You get to name her."

"Me?" I demanded, astonished. "Why me?"

"Because she's your sister," she said like it was the most obvious thing in the World.

"Okay, well, thanks to your weird dream telepathies," I mumbled.

"Speaking of that, I had an even weirder dream," she confessed. "You know, I was just kind of flying and— Killua—no wait, Killua was flying," she muttered pensively.

My eyes widened. "Uh— that's a pretty pathetic dream."

She remained silent for a moment before speaking again. "So, what did you say happened to me again?"

I fidgeted with my jacket zipper, trying to look busy in order to avoid her eyes. "You got really sick and I called Killua and he brought you here," I summarized so not a single lie was involved.

She was about to say something when the door opened and Mr. Domoto entered carrying what looked like a bundle of blankets, then handed it to my mom.

It was from the emotional look on mom's face that I realised that that was actually the baby.

"She's nice and healthy," informed Mr. Domoto. "That's saying something since she was born premature, that's a miracle baby you've got there Hana."

I tried to take peek of her by lifting my head up but when my mom saw this attempt, she simply offered me to take her.

"Uh—I'll drop her," I warned.

She rolled her eyes and sat up more steadily as she tried to hand her over to me.

When I was sitting in an awkward position that seemed safe enough for the little thing, I finally saw her face: It was very pink and she was soundly sleeping; she was so tiny, I thought she must be the size of a bread loaf. She was really adorable when she wasn't the reason my mom was screaming like hell anymore. In the middle of these thoughts, the baby opened an eye, like literally just one eye, and then both before shutting them again.

I froze for an instant. I had just a glimpse of her eyes, but they were so familiar I recognised them immediately: the dark brown irises had just looked up at me for barely a second.

I could feel the tears in my eyes, but before they could escape I took a deep breath to calm myself. Never once in my life had I believed in the word 'reincarnation', but now, I think I did.

I brought my finger to touch her extremely small hands and she wrapped around it her tiny ones. I couldn't help the shaky laugh that escaped me.

Leaning down ever so slightly, I kissed her forehead. "Welcome to the World," I whispered. "Katie Ajibana."

The door opened again and this time Gon revealed himself. His gaze almost at once fell on what I was holding in my arms and he kept staring at it.

"Wanna hold her?" I suggested, seeing the mesmerized look on his face.

He gaped at me like I was about to offer him a great privilege. With extreme caution, he took her from me and then kept gazing at her like she was the only thing in the World worth looking at anymore.

"Where's Killua?" I demanded.

"He left," he replied without looking up; he was now touching the tip of her nose with his finger very carefully, like he wanted to make sure she was real.

I saw my mom looking at me with a very knowing gaze.

I shook my head at her.

She nodded at me and raised her eyebrows. "Don't be a coward," she mouthed.

I sighed and got up. "Do you mind if I go out for a while?" I asked her.

"Sure." She shrugged and then nodded at me secretively again.

My feet suddenly felt very heavy and shaky as I got out of the hospital room, taking a breath, I went to the elevator and this time when I pressed the button for the ground floor, my body started shaking once more and God knows this time I felt more nervous than ever.

* * *

The weather was freezing when I knocked lightly on the same door I had been punching just a few hours ago. The particular cold in this month of April seemed like a presage for something worse on the way; I couldn't shake off the ominous feeling.

It was after a few minutes that Killua appeared from behind the door, wearing a white shirt and looking worn-out, but somehow not physically.

"Hey," I greeted when he just stared at me blankly.

"Hey," he answered after a while.

I opened my mouth to say something but realised I didn't even know what to say. "I—I named her Katie," I mumbled awkwardly. "My sister," I added.

"Oh—" he said quietly. "That's a good name."

"Yeah." I scratched my head.

He nodded. I noticed how his hand was holding the door, like he might shut it any minute.

I sighed and hugged myself. "Killua— thank you so much for—" I began.

"You're welcome," he cut me off immediately.

I just stared at him. Was it getting colder or was it just me? "Okay," I breathed.

"You should be with Hana," he advised and I knew that was his kind way of saying 'get lost already.'

I chewed on my lower lip for a few seconds before I exhaled. "Look, Killua, I'm so sorry." My voice was so heavy and each word sounded just as honest as it was. "I—I know I hurt you so much and I—I don't have any excuse for the way I behaved with you. You have every right to hate me and— I kept blaming you for something you had no control over and I—I did that to you because I'm afraid to face myself." My voice broke by the end. I tried to quickly wipe away the tears in my eyes. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

He kept looking at me with a very piercing gaze until he nodded. "Okay," he answered simply.

I pursed my lips and didn't dare look away from his eyes. "So, it's okay? You—you don't hate me?" I asked hopefully.

"I don't hate you," he assured.

I heaved a sigh and passed a hand through my hair. "Thank you."

He nodded again and moved to close the door.

"Wait!" I said breathlessly, unable to comprehend what he was doing. "Aren't we—" I paused to find the right words.

"Aren't we what?" he asked raising an eyebrow. "Getting back together?" he said bluntly.

I just kept my sight on him silently.

"Please, clarify," he requested. "Because I don't want any misunderstandings between us, not tonight," he added and the calm tone of his voice scared me.

"Yes," I mustered the courage to reply.

He smiled bitterly at me and shook his head, like he was disgusted at what he saw. "So, you're thinking that things are going to get back to the way they were, are you now?"

I suddenly felt very ashamed for some reason. It was like I didn't know what I had been expecting.

"How selfish can you get Claire?" he asked sadly. "What exactly do you think I am? Do I look like some lifeless puppet to you? Or you just think that I can't feel a single thing because I'm a Zoldyck, because I am," he stated. "I belong to the family of assassins that killed your father, do you understand that?" he probed. "And nothing you do can change that. So, let me just ask you, why are you here now?"

"Killua, I just know—"

"You don't know anything," he interrupted. "You never did and neither you do now. I'm the same person I was on the day we met, I'm the same person you punched in the face. SO WHY ARE YOU HERE?" he bellowed. "Tell me, what has changed?" he said, trying to steady his voice.

I wanted to say something, but I had lost my voice.

"Is it because I showed up when you needed me?" he asked, guessing exactly what I wanted to say. "If it's that then tell me, when I have not showed up when you needed me?" His voice shook slightly. "I was always there."

I sobbed involuntarily before clasping a hand on my mouth.

"And if you tell me that you thought I was pretending all along with everything then I swear I'm going to—" He stopped mid-sentence and put a hand on his forehead.

I tried to breathe. "Killua—I'm really sorry and I—"

"Well, sorry isn't good enough, Claire."

I wiped my cheeks repeatedly. "What is then? I'll do anything—Killua, I—I can't be without you," I begged.

"You managed just fine for three months."

"If you just give me one chance, I swear—"

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be," he pleaded.

"Please," I whispered feeling helpless.

His gaze hardened and I knew this was it. I prepared myself for the final blow, but it was never enough. "Have a good life, Claire." He shut the door before I could even take another breath.

I still think today, I should have kept knocking until he opened again. I should've begged him. I should've told him I loved him. I should have but I didn't, because I was something I had falsely accused him of being—a coward.

_The wind is as selfish as the haunting night_

_for it molds every word as clear as a blurred sight._


	19. Solitude

I'm now eighteen and like _so_ smart. I'm basically a pillar of wisdom and intelligence and I'm _sooo_ mature now, so if you're looking for advice on life, take it from a girl who still orders a happy meal. I must inform you guys beforehand that I'm going to be shamelessly gloating behind the screen everytime I update on time, like right now. _Okay_, so I don't even know where to begin and how to thank you guys for your awesomeness. Thank you and _you_ and you and _you_ *points at everyone individually and then latches onto them like a koala.

This is the part where the plot moves forward a tiny bit and you're gonna find out what changes I've made in the election arc according to the story's plotline. For those of you who hate Claire just as much as I do, let's make that selfish bitch suffer the way she deserves and maybe make her pay for the way she treated Killua? Yes.

Ohh, and also one of the most amazing people I know (Yui) has finally released her KilluaOc fanfiction that shes's been working on for a year! If you're looking for a nice, confident and chatty OC (not a deranged, egocentrical asshole like Claire) and a cool, nineteen-year-old version of Killua, Poisoned Amaryllis by KiGaMin is your story!

I'll update on the 10th of the next month and btw I've posted some excerpts from chapter twenty and twenty-one on tumblr, if you're interested in checking them out, my blog is: _basmachocolate_ (God, I feel so embarrassed every time I write this stupid username. Curse the day I picked it). A quick thanks to my betas and Lani, if you're reading this KNOW THAT YOU ARE AWESOME AND YOU HAVE TO ADMIT IT NOW SINCE I SAID IT IN FRONT OF THE WORLD. *evil laugh.

Dig in guys, I fell when I was little. Just one last thing; there's this old Taylor Swift song called 'If this was a movie', I thought it kind of reminded me of this chapter a bit, check it out if you want?

Chapter: 19

* * *

**"Solitude."**

* * *

There's this penetrative quality about the humid air when you're standing thoroughly soaked in the rain and trying to look through the sleeting sheet pouring down at you, as if it knows your sins and cleanses them through your pores just to rush them back in when you're reunited with your shadow—or the lapsed sense of guilt that courses through your veins when you sit meaninglessly on an abandoned seat in the park with an excuse for sunlight dripping over you. There are times I just sit longer, waiting for a stranger to materialise on the bench by me and maybe rant on about our miserable lives—it never happens and no one ever shows up. I take it as a sign from the universe and there is nothing I can remember clearer than this feeling of emptiness. This was the kind of meaningless solace filling the hollow in my bones.

The world is a _colossally_ big place. It's population is of about seven billion. The sky is endless and so are dreams.

The number of people residing in Noda is somewhat over a hundred thousand and this town is magically covered with an infinite sheet of clouds and rain; the sun appears once in a blue moon and in winters it snows just as much as I trip.

I live in the third house in block number 9, my name is Claire, I have a 6 days old sister who cries every night from exactly 2am to 4am and I'm seventeen and 364 days old.

But I seemed to run blank on all of this and the universe seemed like a suffocatingly small place and there were only two people on Earth when I passed by Killua Zoldyck in the hallway or when I was at my locker and he was just two steps away or during chemistry labs when his shoulder was inches away from mine.

If there was one place for me to experience deeply concentrated self hatred, to feel utterly meaningless and invisible and to imagine impossible scenarios in my head— it was right there next to him, when he ignored me so flawlessly like he wasn't even aware of my presence and I felt like maybe I wasn't even born and was just looking at other people's lives without actually being a part of them.

All of this wasn't even weird compared to the new habits I had developed in the past few days like crying myself to sleep after Katie had done her share, writing long texts which were addressed to Killua's number and then deleting them one by one, fidgeting with the two charms on the bracelet Killua had given me; I should mention at this point that gladly I wasn't wearing it on the night I had that little Mulan moment and cut my hair off otherwise it would either have been flushed away or smashed up mercilessly. I found it in my dresser just a few days back along with the picture of him and me that I ogled at on regular basis now. Lastly, I got terrified and to the point of almost giving myself a seizure, whenever Killua skipped a class or didn't show up at school because according to Gon, he and Killua were here because a person had information regarding his father and after practically snooping like a fangirl, I came to the conclusion that they were likely to leave once their work was done and that couldn't happen—I still hadn't come up with an effective plan to get Killua to forgive me.

Gon had resumed his tuition in calculus with me, though it was not a matter of many mysteries that it was actually just an excuse to see Katie everyday and everyone was grateful that he was there because when it came to infants, both my mom and my nonna were clueless since me and my dad were both adopted when we were about ten, and Gon was surprisingly amazing at dealing with kids: he could even get Katie to stop crying when she did it for no reason.

Then there was Mr. Domoto who was getting married in two months and that was the only thing I was looking forward to; graduation sounded mortifying since I couldn't bring myself to think about college and what would be of me and—

Anyway, all in all, I was becoming more paranoid everyday but somehow keeping it together on the outside. My temper was a lot better now and I even managed to keep myself under control in philosophy class.

"Miss Gaspardo?" Mr. Isawa waved his hand in front of me.

"Huh?" I asked disoriented.

"The class was dismissed five minutes ago," he informed me.

I looked around realising that he was right and stood up immediately. Damn me and my stupid mind. "Sorry," I mumbled.

As I gathered my books I thought I heard him say something under his breath that sounded a lot like "_tactics._"

I glared up at him in disbelief. "What are you, eighty?" The words almost slipped off my tongue but gladly, I managed to hold it back.

"Your assignment wasn't as good as the previous one," he commented.

"I was busy," I explained sliding my bag on my shoulder.

"Understandable," he said an amused tone. "I forgot to congratulate you on the birth of your sister," he recalled pensively.

I stared at him for a moment. "Do you stalk me or something?"

"Only on social media," he assured with such a Killua resembling smirk.

I grimaced at him. "You're creepy."

"In a good way?" He asked pacing behind me.

"Is there even a good way?" I mumbled as I headed out and distractedly ran into someone, dropping all the books in my arms.

The scent was so familiar I knew it was him before even looking up. For the briefest of moments Killua met my eyes and gazed at the books lying on the floor in an indecisive manner, then just walked past me like it never happened.

I sighed as I knelt down to pick them up but was surprised to see that Gon had already gathered them and was holding out a hand for me.

I took it and stood up. "Thanks," I said looking in the direction Killua had just gone.

"Don't let him bother you," he comforted. "He's been an asshole all week."

I attempted to smile at him and keep my voice steady. "You should be taking your best friend's side," I reminded him as I took the books from him one by one and placed them in my locker.

He looked at me with a guilty expression. "Are you crying?"

"Wha—" I blinked furiously, feeling the moisture in my eyes. I detested the way I cried over everything. "No—no, just something in my eye," I lied.

He nodded and I understood that I wasn't fooling anyone here. "Claire—"

"Aren't you getting late for class?" I cut off immediately.

He gave me a sad smile and seeing that this wasn't going anywhere, he left.

For the past few days Gon had been keeping me company and I could tell it was because he felt sorry for me. The worst part was that I was _grateful_ that he did because otherwise I knew it would've been a task just to keep myself from weeping every few minutes just like right now when it took every ounce of my will not to let the tears spill from my eyes as I ran to the girl's bathroom.

I sobbed loudly just as I burst in, concentrating on keeping my breathing steady.

It was just a little too late when I spotted the auburn haired figure staring astonished at me.

I tried to hide my face with my arms as I pretended to wipe off the tears, praying in someway to vanish off the face of the earth.

"Are you okay?" Naomi asked in a worried voice.

I swallowed. "Yeah," I said as I stood up and attempted to look composed.

We both kept looking at each other in silence. The black eye that I had given her a few months ago seemed to have disappeared now. This was one of the most awkward situations that I had ever experienced.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, finally breaking the quietude. "About— that day." I honestly didn't know what to expect from her because I certainly didn't expect her to ask me whether I was okay in the first place.

There was a pause after which she walked closer to me and wrapped her arms around me unexpectedly.

I froze for a second unable to comprehend what was happening.

"I'm really sorry about your dad," she said and it was then that I remembered the day a few years back, at the start of sixth grade when the teacher had called Naomi out of the class to inform her that her father had died of a heart attack.

I embraced her back and I knew now why she came to me that day by my locker, because she understood just how much it hurt.

"I'm sorry," I repeated, my voice slightly uneven from crying. "For throwing up during that play and ruining your part," I mumbled.

She drew back and stared at me with a surprised expression and I saw that there were black tears staining her cheeks from the mascara she was wearing, then she just laughed really loudly.

"Jesus," she said wiping her tears and then chuckling again.

I dried my face with the back of my sleeve feeling like an idiot.

"Claire?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you feel alright?" She asked holding me at arm's length.

"Yeah," I said in a voice that seemed anyone's but my own. "Yeah, totally alright."

She kept looking at me then nodded before walking to the door. "I'll see you around?" She said turned back to me.

I gaped at her. "Sure," I answered weakly.

With a nod and a genuine smile, she exited leaving me thinking that there was now some kind of a silent understanding between us because there are some things you just can't go through without developing some sort of insight and one of them is hugging your life long nemesis in a bathroom after a break down.

* * *

When I woke up in the morning with my alarm buzzing in my head, still thinking that maybe I had dreamt the whole scene with Naomi, the first thing I noticed was the fancy looking package lying on the foot of my bed.

After barely three hours of sleep, my head felt unusually heavy as I picked up the card next to the present.

'Happy birthday kid. Wear it at my wedding' instructed a very sloppy handwriting which I recognised as Mr. Domoto's.

I rolled my eyes and smiled as I picked it up and transferred it to my desk, it would be opened in due time. Next to it now there was an envelope from my uncle Shirai, my mom's only brother, who sent me a load of cash as always along with a card and placed on its side was a velvet box.

A silvery-white pendant embedded with a gorgeous sapphire revealed itself after I pressed the lid open. I could tell without a doubt this was from my nonna, so I put it on since I knew she would be waiting downstairs to examine just how it looked on me. Lastly, there were several chocolate bars tied with a red ribbon, with a tag that held the words '_from Katie_'.

I rolled my eyes again and went to change. One glance in the mirror and I decided I didn't look very much eighteen, so for the sake of at least appearing like I was legal, I put some eyeliner and mascara on.

I followed my morning ritual of checking and rechecking my phone for a text from Killua and after being disappointed as per routine, I walked downstairs toying with the bracelet on my wrist.

I would never admit this, but I had secretly hoped that Killua would make an exception and maybe just reach out to me today, with a text or even, if a miracle was possible, address me somehow. But I wasn't counting too much on that now or at least I wouldn't _let_ myself count on that.

I reminded myself to refrain from sighing or rolling my eyes today since to my family my birthday was always some sort of holy festival.

There was sincerily nothing I hated more than attention and celebrations. Last year I had made my mom swear that we wouldn't be holding any sort of party on my eighteenth birthday but as I sat down, I spotted the frosting-covered pancakes, supporting a fairly sized candle forming the digit '18' and felt a frown materialise itself on my face.

"Happy birthday!" Squeaked my mom and nonna a second before I almost sighed in frustration.

"Thanks," I said forcing a smile.

Just as I dreaded they started singing and I pursed my lips wishing for the ground to swallow me.

"Mom," I said when they were done. "You remember your promise, right?" I reminded just in case she was having any ideas.

She gave me a quizzical look. "The one about not moving in with you and your husband? Don't worry."

"Mom," I repeated.

"I know, I know. No birthday party," she assured. "But you could at least blow the candle, right?"

I nodded as I started poking my breakfast with a fork.

She lighted the colourful candle before whispering, "Don't forget to make a wish."

If a year younger me actually saw me believe in this crap, she would've discontinued her life but last year I didn't know Killua at this time and I certainly wasn't in love. So, I closed my eyes and blew out the flame as I asked hopelessly for him.

I forced down the pancakes and made a quick trip to Katie's room where she was sleeping soundly like there wasn't any single worry in the world. It had kind of become a routine now, I made sure she was one of the first things I'd see as my day started.

I couldn't help a smile on seeing the peaceful expression on her face as I bent down in her cot and kissed her forehead. If I had the chance, I would give away every single joy in my life as an exchange not to have any sadness in hers. Even though just her presence threw at me an enormous wave of guilt—because not only all my blunders were reflected before me but it was a huge reminder that she wouldn't even be in this world if it weren't for the boy I had emotionally tortured for so many months—somehow around her, I also felt the most selfless I ever had, because I wasn't one to deny just how egocentric I was and right now fixing all the shit I had fucked up didn't seem easy.

It was a while later that I noticed the time and rushed outside hurriedly and briefly thanked my nonna for the present.

"Can you drop me? I'm so late," I asked my mom, pulling the strap of my bag on my shoulder,

"Drop yourself," she ordered as she handed me a set of unfamiliar car keys. "Consider it as a birthday slash graduation present."

I gritted my teeth. "I'll walk."

"You do that and then be ready to celebrate tonight," she warned.

I gave her an astonished look. "Why can't you just ground me like a _normal_ parent?"

"Well, what kind of a _normal_ teenager reacts like this on getting a car?" she challenged.

I tried to keep my expression composed as she escorted me to the porch where surely a brand new silver car was parked behind hers.

I face-palmed and groaned. "Why?" I debriefed miserably.

"Because I can't drive you around your whole life and besides, you'll be going to college soon," she explained.

Since I really didn't have any time left to argue, I got in the stupid vehicle and started the engine. It wasn't just that I hated cars, which I did; it was that I was actually a really lousy driver. I was more than sure that the only reason that I had passed my driving test, after four attempts, was because the instructor knew I was just going to be showing up again and again.

When I reversed the car, only missing the mailbox by an inch, I accidentally pressed the accelerator so hard, it almost hit a nearby tree before I slammed my foot on the brake. Looking through the window, I saw my mom rolling her eyes at me. "Your fault," I reminded her as I pulled out.

I made it to school without actually ending anyone's life, although I did see an old lady on the side-walk throw me a particularly nasty look. I honestly didn't know just how worse this day was going to get, but knowing my mom, anything could happen so I decided to take measures of my own.

I caught Gon near the entrance, struggling with the collar of his shirt.

"Go out with me," I said as soon as I reached him.

He looked up at me with wide-eyes, suddenly turning very pink. "What?"

"Fuck, sorry," I breathed as soon as I realised just what I had said. "I—I mean, hang out with me, like go somewhere—that would be out—with me?" I clarified.

He blinked. "Oh—okay." he said still confused.

"I'll pick you up at uh—nine," I said pensively.

"Yeah—okay," he agreed nervously, the colour still hadn't completely left his cheeks.

"Thanks, you're a life-saver." I walked away towards history class.

Whatever I was expecting or hoping, Killua wasn't there. He wasn't even in philosophy class, he wasn't even in calculus, he wasn't in history— he wasn't anywhere. I didn't dare ask Gon about him at lunch, after all, I had to have some dignity.

So, the rest of the day and the way home went by as slowly as possible. It was after about seven in the evening that I retreated to my room after my mom had started dropping hints like 'birthdays only come once a year' or 'you only turn eighteen once.'

I busied myself with a book until the time was appropriate enough for my exit. It was actually no use since my mind seemed to be diverting thoughts to other matters. I couldn't tell how sudden it was, but I clearly heard a knock on my window.

I jerked my head up faster than I could blink but only to be disappointed since no one was there. I got up and slid open the window pane, looking on each side like a delusional idiot before shutting it.

I didn't like how tight my throat was getting all of a sudden. There was one thing I couldn't stand right now and that was being in this room. I rushed down and got out before anyone had the chance to ask me where I was going. I shut the door behind me and leaned against it for a moment to catch my breath.

I almost decided to go back inside when I saw the silver-haired figure standing at my side.

I gasped really loudly as I was caught off guard. "You came," I whispered, closing my eyes as I bit my lip. "I—Killua." It was horrifying because it felt like if I said just one wrong word, he'd leave. "I love you," I confessed breathlessly, my heart pounding furiously.

It was after several seconds of silence that I opened my eyes only to see the deserted street before me. For one moment I refused to believe that I had hallucinated him, it just wasn't possible.

I didn't feel any tears pricking my eyes this time but there was an unmistakable pain in my chest, for a brief period I just slid down and sat in front of the door. It was so dark, I felt like the World was closing in on me, like it was a huge glass dome and everything was just so pathetic.

Not exactly knowing what to do and struggling as hard as I could not to cry, which I swore I wasn't going to do again, I got in my car and drove away not completely sure where I was headed. I was stuck between a state where I couldn't believe I had rendered myself so desperate as to actually hallucinate him and realizing just how I really didn't have much of a life outside of him.

Somewhere right in the middle of these thoughts, when I had barely driven past the second street, I hit a car. I _actually_ hit a car. It wasn't like a real huge collision, but it was enough to nearly give me a heart attack.

I wasn't really sure how or why it had happened, but not a second later the other driver had gotten out of his car and was at my window. With my hands trembling like crazy, I lowered my window glass.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" asked the spiky-haired man with glasses that were perched on the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry," I said breathlessly. "I wasn't—"

"You're sorry?" he asked furiously. "Does sorry cover you nearly blowing us up and sending everyone off to hell?"

I stared at him speechlessly. "Well, I—"

"Do you even have a license? You know you can be arrested for under-age driving no matter how smart you think you are?"

I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes, trying to control my temper. It was my fault after all. "I'm legal," I said in a composed voice. "And I'm sorry," I repeated glaring at him.

He glared back. "You should learn how to drive," he muttered as he turned to walk away after adding: "Girls think they know how a car works."

_That was it_. I opened the door and got out before being aware of doing so. "Oh, so you're saying I shouldn't be driving because I'm a _girl_?" I challenged.

He faced me again. "I'm saying you shouldn't be driving, _period_," he retorted. "Especially when you look and drive like you're thirteen."

I gaped at him. "I look—? Okay, maybe if you weren't driving like the idiotic old man that you are then this wouldn't have happened in the first place, maybe they should put a ban on over-age driving which in your case would really be a thing!" I bellowed.

"What the hell did you just call me?" he asked outraged as he moved closer to me.

"I think you heard nice and clear; you wouldn't dare hit a _girl_, now would you?" I shot back as I took a step towards him. I honestly had no idea what I was getting myself into but at the moment my rage was completely taking over.

"_You little_—" he began as his fingers grabbed my arm but in an instant, his hold was broken by the grasp of another figure standing between us.

"Old man, drop it," ordered Killua in a dull voice as I looked at him with my mouth open.

The man gazed at him in a way that made me realize that they knew each other and just one look at the car I had hit—Killua's car—sort of explained the situation to me.

"She—" the man struggled with world. "This—"

"I said, _drop it_." Killua's tone was so calm, it scared me.

In the matter of seconds I felt a surge of embarrassment that I had never felt before in my life as I watched the anonymous man sigh and walk away followed by Killua. After seeing them drive away another horrifying thought crossed my mind. Was that Killua's father?

For _heaven's sake_, no. I battled with my thoughts as I climbed back into the driver's seat and took a breath. He couldn't be, because for one thing he didn't look anything like him and for another, hadn't Killua told me once that he had gotten his hair-colour from his father? Maybe he was Killua's guardian— did he have a guardian?

Shortly after getting over that dilemma, another wave of humiliation hit me very deep. I wondered, as I started the car again, that between hitting a locker door in Naomi's face, nearly lunging at Nora, almost literally fighting with his supposed guardian and punching him, what would Killua be thinking of me?

**Killua's P.O.V:-**

My foot was practically glued to the accelerator as I rushed the car forward in frustration and right now, maintaining control appeared to be the real struggle as I was constantly refraining myself from snapping the steering wheel into two.

"Did you see the way she was talking to me?" fumed the old-man from the passenger seat. "I would've given her the lesson she deserved."

My jaw clenched and I could feel Gon studying my reaction in my peripheral vision.

"Leorio, calm down," he pleaded from the backseat. "I think it's best to just let it go—"

"I swear if Killua didn't stop me that little bitch would've—"

"Shut up!" I seethed through my gritted teeth before making a conscious decision to speak.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. "What the hell is your problem?" he asked in a curious voice. "You've been acting weird since that girl—" he paused and gasped as if some sacred knowledge had dawned upon him. "Don't tell me that was the girl from the phone call!"

I pretended not to have heard him as I turned up the volume of the stereo.

"I can see why you like her," he commented loudly with a smirk in his voice. "You both have the same shitty attitude malfunction."

My eyes widened and I couldn't hold back the snort that escaped me.

He shut off the music and I could hear Gon's maffled laughter. "She's got quite the temper, huh?" he mused, his gaze intently on me. "Now that I think about it, she does have the looks," he ventured.

I shrugged and tried to appear uninterested.

"Did they break-up or something?" he poked Gon, his eyes still fixed on me.

I passed a hand through my hair, struggling to maintain my composure.

"It's— complicated," Gon phrased as he drew back.

The old man huffed. "What related to Killua isn't?"

The quietude that followed dragged to my mind thoughts I desperately wanted to stay away from. I stopped at the red light and turned back to quickly glance at Gon, who was staring vacantly out the glass.

"Speaking of complicated," he resumed. "I heard some strange rumours about Ging at the auction, you know."

"What kind of rumours?" I demanded alerted.

He straightened the lapels of his coat before looking up again. "Well, first off, did you know he has a bounty on him?"

My head jerked in his direction immediately. "WHAT?" Gon and I asked in unison.

"Yeah," he replied hesitantly. "And it's a pretty hefty one too."

"What do you mean?" Gon's voice was radiating with forced control. "He's a double star hunter, why would he have a reward on his head? He's not—"

"Was," Leorio corrected. "Apparently his licence was cancelled a few years ago, that's why there's no information regarding him in the hunter database; it's all been erased."

"This doesn't make any sense." I threw a glance at the traffic light as I strained to keep myself from staring back to study Gon's reaction.

"What's he accused of?" He asked quietly.

"No idea, but it does make his sudden disappearance from the election more understandable."

I could practically feel the tension radiating from Gon spread in the atmosphere. "He withdrew—"

"Gon," I addressed, rushing the car forward. "Of course that's what the news would label it as. They must have wanted to keep it all on a low profile for some reason." My tone was indecisive as I spoke because suddenly there was something in my periphery that was hovering at the edge, some vital piece of information that I knew but couldn't seem to retrace.

"Something must've happened—" he broke off mid sentence and shifted to a side, unable to speak further.

That was when it clicked. "During the election," I recalled. "Another member of the Zodiacs withdrew all of a sudden as well, and they were in the winning streaks."

The tense air turned into a crushing weight that seemed to bend everyone down for a moment.

"What else did you find out?" I debriefed, the vehicle seemed to be slipping out of my command.

He sighed. "Uh—well," he commenced gradually. "About two years back, a member of the JCI caught Ging."

"WHAT?" Gon and I roared in disbelief and the wheels screeched piercingly as I removed my foot from the pedal.

"I'm explaining!" he bellowed, snatching his seat belt so tightly it seemed moments away from snapping. "Just don't crash the car for fuck's sake! Park somewhere before you get us all killed!" he pleaded.

I obeyed and pulled over at the nearest slot. My sight fixed on him as soon as everything went still. I didn't have too look over to see that Gon was in the same state.

"He escaped," he breathed as grasped the seat for support. "They barely managed to hold him in for a day. He just vanished and that is the last anyone's heard of him."

"Who was the man who caught him?" I asked as I confirmation, I was already expecting the next words that would come out of his mouth.

"Kiyeshi Isawa," he revealed. "It's no use though, that man left the organization soon after the whole Ging scandal."

"That's the man we're tailing," Gon informed in a confused tone. "We were told he knew Ging."

"I don't know. Whoever tipped you off on that must have handed over clipped information or maybe this is all a huge bluff."

I stared at the old man for a few moments. "Why are you telling us all of this eight months after the auction?" I questioned murderously.

He grimaced. "I didn't believe any of this!" he justified raising his hands. "It was just a bunch of drunk mafia trolls blabbering around—I didn't want to lead you on into another dead end."

"This is a dead end," Gon whispered coldly. "Whatever path we take shifts shape and whenever we're close, the rules change."

"Actually," I interrupted. "This is more of a confirmation, it's the most solid information we've received so far. There is a reason two Zodiac members disappeared during the election and it's definitely something big that's why it's all being kept in the shadows; that makes it two strikes for where we've heard of Isawa's involvement which just proves it even further that he has a direct connection with Ging. There's always the possibility that this might be a false track but it's better than nothing."

"We're trying to trace back something from four years ago? The elections, are you serious Killua?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, because now would be the perfect time for a pun, right?"

He rolled his eyes.

"It's actually stupid how we didn't even consider that before. The last place we had a real hint of Ging's appearance was at the elections; we weren't there but we could've investigated a big further. Prying around from people wasn't easy or cheap," I reminded.

"So, another wild-goose chase?" Gon asked as I saw the hint of a smirk on his face.

"I'm in if you're in," I proposed.

"A month and a half," he declared.

"What?"

"After the finals—and don't be a jerk," he quickly added. "It'll give us more time to dig around and wherever we have to go, we'll go right after graduation."

I scowled at him. I knew a bit too well why he was constantly delaying everything.

"I'm still here," the ancient man announced, fixing his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Anyway, don't we have more important matters to discuss?"

"Like what?" I demanded cautiously.

"Are you dating that girl or what?" he probed with curious eyes.

I face-palmed and gave the middle finger to Gon who was grinning in the backseat. "Shut up."

**Claire's P.O.V:-**

"Thanks for—I mean being here," I mumbled as Gon and I were seated in my car, parked in front of the mall, eating nachos with the stereo on.

"I like it," he assured as he carefully positioned the dip on the dashboard. "You have good music and you can eat." He shrugged.

I laughed even though I wasn't really sure what he meant by the last part.

"Happy birthday," he said handing me what I recognized as an album of one of my favourite bands.

I looked between him and the object in his hand. "You knew it was my birthday?" I asked surprised.

"Well, apparently, since I just said '_happy birthday_'?" he said jokingly.

"You didn't have to get me anything," I said as he put in the new cd in the player.

"Which song?" he asked ignoring me. "Y-you're —not going to cry, are you?" his tone was horrified after seeing the emotional look on my face.

"No—no," I convinced as I took off my seat belt and put my arms around him. "Thanks, I know this sounds cheesy, but you're my only friend right now. Thank you—thank you—thanks."

He held me tighter and I became aware of how he smelled like the forest, I wasn't sure why it seemed to me like that.

It was after a while that I pulled back as a question ran through my mind. "Do you have a guardian?" I debriefed trying to act casual.

"What?" he asked confused.

I cleared my throat. "I mean uh—let me describe a guy and you tell me if you know him, okay?" I attempted.

He gazed at me with an amused expression.

"Black hair, dark eyes, weird small glasses, tall—in need of a shave?" I added, carefully studying his reaction.

He raised an eyebrow and laughed. "Leorio?"

"Le—he's not—who is he?" I stuttered.

Gon studied my face. "A friend, why?" I didn't know why the hint of a smile was on his face. Killua couldn't have told him, could he?

"No reason," I said stuffing a handful of nachos in my mouth.

The way he bit his lip and turned away had me convinced that he knew. "I was in the backseat," he informed after a while.

My face suddenly felt very very hot. So, he had seen my little display of maturity. I grabbed my drink and started sipping on it a bit too enthusiastically before facing him again as a horrifying thought occurred to me. "You're not leaving, are you?" I demanded breathlessly.

He blinked. "No—not yet."

I immediately pushed the bitter assumptions that threw themselves at me after his words at a deep end of my mind. The last thing my deranged brain needed was a dose of anxiety over something that hadn't even happened yet. I swore to myself I wouldn't ask him for a deadline. "Okay_._" I simply let the meaningless word float out there.

There was a comfortable silence in which we just ate and listened to a song about deception and insecurity. "Gon?" I mentioned after a while.

"Yeah?"

I turned to look at him. "You're pretty, you're nice; why don't you date?" I demanded.

His cheeks acquired a slightly pinkish hue. "Uh—I—"

"Don't tell me no one's ever asked you out because I see the way girls look at you," I warned.

He scratched his head. "I've been on dates," he confessed.

"You're waiting for _the one_?" I interrogated.

He sniggered awkwardly. "No—it's just that well, Killua and I have never really settled anywhere. We're always moving from one place to another and in such circumstances it didn't make sense for me to just—you know," he mumbled.

"Have you ever been in love?" I drilled on like a mole.

He met my eyes. "I don't think so," he said honestly. "I mean, I'm not really sure how it's supposed to feel."

I leaned my head back against the seat. "You know, increased heart-beat, you sweat like a pig, about to barf, losing control of your body and repeatedly doing stupid things and humiliating yourself?"

He gave me a funny look. "_Okay_? I'm confused between nausea and anal leakage but _okay,_" he remarked, raising an eyebrow.

I couldn't recognise the laugh that escaped me at his words.

He chuckled silently and in the background, another sad track started playing.

I was chewing on my straw when he asked me something that startled me.

"Do you love him?"

I kept staring at him, lacking the strength to look away. "What?"

"Killua, do you love him?" he asked lowly.

"I—I—" I stammered feeling my throat get tighter. "It doesn't _matter._" I exhaled. "It's no use because he hates me and—I wish I hadn't done what I did. I let him down," I whispered as I felt my voice break.

"Killua doesn't hate you," he said in quiet voice.

I didn't know whether it was just his words or the song messing with my head, but I felt the lump in my throat before the tears. "He does, he—" I struggled with words.

"Claire." Gon sighed as he shifted his legs. "Killua doesn't hate you," he repeated.

I wanted to tell him to stop saying that, but I couldn't seem to find my voice.

"Do you know why he's staying away from you?" he debriefed after another moment of quietude.

"Because I fucked up," I muttered, utterly hating myself. "Because I'm selfish."

He shook his head and gave me a sad smile. "I realised it the moment you told me he didn't say anything to you that night in the surveillance room."

"What?" I looked at him intently, unable to comprehend what he was saying.

He sighed. "Why did Keitomaro try to kill you?" he asked with ease.

"What does—" I stopped mid-syllable and just gaped at him as I understood what he meant. "No." I refused to believe what he was saying.

"He's staying away from you because he thinks it's dangerous for you to be around him."

"That doesn't make _any_ sense," I retorted as I started fidgeting with the bracelet on my wrist.

"Claire, he's a former assassin, do you know just how many people are after him, one reason or another?"

"I don't believe you," I stated staring at my wrist. "If he seriously would think that some great noble reason for my—" I broke off again as I caught sight of the glinting figures on my bracelet. Where there hung two charms, now there were three. A crescent moon was now placed between the silver snowflake and the initial of his name.

That was when I held my head in my hands and cried because I felt consumed and weak. I hated that Gon was right. Somewhere deep within, I always knew that Killua would forgive me one way or another but I also knew him well enough to tell that once he had made up his mind on something, it would be as hard as hell to convince him otherwise and when it came to me, I knew we weren't going anywhere.

* * *

It was an extremely frosty morning when I sat on the deserted bleachers with a book. I took off the silver bracelet and held it so that the feeble sun rays fell on it just enough to make it glow. Solitude was the only thing I seemed to be settling in comfortably these days.

_"If you're looking for the most stubborn and obstinate person in the whole world, that's Killua for you. Sometimes he doesn't make sense, other times he's the biggest jerk on the planet and still other times he tries his best to pretend like he doesn't care. He has flawless determination, perfect scheming and possibly every other good skill to keep him on his track but there's always one huge hole in his master plan: he forgets that he's human and ultimately whether he likes or not, whether he admits it or not; he cares. And as his best friend, I can honestly tell you that most of the time he's clashing with himself."_

I sighed as I stared off at the empty football field remembering a time that seemed like ages ago when he was right here next to me. I tried to fasten the wristlet but instead, I pressed too hard on the seal and sent it flying until it fell on the edge of the metallic bars.

I groaned as I put the novel down on a seat and attempted to retrieve it. It was no use, the tip of my finger barely touched it. I took in a deep breath as I gripped the edge of a seat and threw my leg over the other side, holding tight to one of the bars.

I bit the inside of my cheek as I reached for it again, one wrong move and I knew I would definitely be falling from a good twenty feet. Just a bit more, I chanted in my head.

"What the hell are you doing?" asked an angry voice.

I got startled and lost my hold on the bar and almost slipped down until two arms grasped me firmly. I sensed his cold hands, trying not acknowledge too much exactly where they were as he pulled me back up.

There he was, with his messy silver hair and a breath taking glare.

Maybe my mind was too far off gone now. I wasn't sure whether you could perceive hallucinations actually touch you, but I certainly wasn't going to torture my brain anymore. I shifted my position again and was trying to repeat the previous feat when he grabbed my arm and jerked me back.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked exasperated.

I blinked and then narrowed my eyes, before extending my palm to touch his face.

He froze and didn't move until I removed my hand.

"You're real," I whispered as I realized just what an idiot I must be seeming.

"What?" he asked disoriented. "You seriously think you're accomplishing something with these stupid actions?"

I looked at him, still unable to believe he was talking to me. "What—I wasn't about to jump," I assured as I understood what he implied.

"Really?" he demanded in a calm voice. "Then what exactly are you doing?" He raised an eyebrow in challenge like he knew I was lying.

"I'm trying to get my bracelet back?" I answered simply, pointing towards it.

He looked behind and spotted the wristlet. Before I could comprehend just what he was upto, he walked to the higher seat and extended his arm, easily grasping the object around his finger.

I kept gazing at him as he walked back to me and handed me the bracelet.

"You should stop living in the past," he suggested as he put his hands in his pockets.

_"As of that, right now, his fight is with himself. There is a right thing to do and a wrong thing to do but lastly there's what Killua does and I can swear to God his mind works in the most unusual way. Answer back when he tries to defeat you with words, he won't be aware of it, but he'll be letting you in very slowly and very deeply."_

I bit my lip and met his eyes. "Then maybe you should stop reviving it," I replied. "Stop showing up when I need you."

He looked at me so intently, it seemed like he could read my mind through my eyes. "Soon enough," he assured. "I'll be gone soon enough."

I swallowed hard. "You do that." I nodded and saw how his eyes hardened. "And I swear I'll jump off for real this time," I blurted out.

His gaze darkened. "You do _that_," he repeated my words stressing menacingly on the last one. "And you'll get to see just what I do to you afterwards," he warned as he came closer. "There are things worse than death, Claire."

I held my head up and didn't break my stare. "Are you threatening me?"

"I am," he clarified.

"I'm not afraid of you Killua," I stated.

"You should be. I think you're forgetting just what I'm capable of." It was then that I saw his hand. He held it up extremely close to me and I saw the veined claws that had replaced his hand.

I couldn't deny the speed with which my heart started beating. "I'm not afraid of you," I said again.

"Then why are you trembling?" he debriefed standing an inch away from me and curling his fingers.

I took a deep breath. I knew what he was trying to do. "It's cold," I murmured as I took his fist and kissed it lightly before letting go.

His eyes widened and he looked at me vacantly. "_Don't_," he breathed after a moment.

I shook my head as I tried to put on the silver chain again. "But I will," I confirmed.

I heard an audible sigh after which he took my hand and lifted it enough to swiftly fasten the bracelet around it. He gave me one last look, like he was taking in every detail of me because this was the last time he would ever do so, and then he turned away walking towards the ground.

_"So, just go with the flow. Let him go insane with his thoughts but eventually, I promise you, he'll come around when you least expect him to."_

_Loneliness may not be fatal and solitude may not be a curse,_

_but disregard doubtlessly is and surely there is nothing worse._


	20. Intransigent

Hello, it's me. I was wondering if after all these weeks you'd like to read... (Please sing this in your heads in Adele's voice otherwise my lame attempts at being funny will be more prominently lousy than they already are and if you don't laugh at this then I will.)

So, it's literally four-thirty in the morning as I update (again on time, I might add, with a smug asshol-ish smirk) because it just occured to me that there's a whole time-zone difference thingy and I'm not sure if it's the tenth where you live but...uh whatever.

Leave my meaningless ranting aside and please accept my koala hugs as I chant an infinite stream of thank yous. I honestly can't believe the story has reached twenty chapters and it might not seem that big of a deal but it is to me since I'm the kind of person who loses interest in things very quickly so, I was never expecting it to come as far as it has. Don't worry, I'm not gonna start that whole emotional grandma lecture even though I feel it coming...

Moving on to the chapter itself...it's sad, it's a sad chapter and I'm an evil person. Angst is like oxygen to me so I'll keep destroying my characters' lives with my sort of masochistic behaviour until I cease to exist. Also, the ending is slightly different from the teaser I posted on tumblr, just know that I had to do _quite_ some editing in this chapter and as usual I'm gonna thank my awesome betas and I'd also really like to thank _killuasgirl123_ from tumblr (I'm sorry but I don't know your account so...), your anticipation for this story honestly kills me with joy.

I'm not really sure when I'm gonna update next because I do have a lot of the next chapter written down but I'm thinking about making a few changes and I'm also having my exams... and exams are _so_ fun because in one moment you're like: "I got this, I can go through this!" and the next moment you're rolling around the corridor screaming about suicide and Lord Voldemort... but yeah. _I got this_. I might update early but I'm not sure and you shouldn't trust me because I wouldn't trust me either. _Just_, guys _please_ dig in, I talk too much.

Chapter: 20

* * *

**"Intransigent."**

* * *

If you were me, there would be two kinds of Killua Zoldyck you'd encounter from time to time: the one that pretended you didn't exist and the one that treated you like his property—let me explain.

Citing from a few weeks ago, when Gon had asked me to come over to their apartment for his tuition. I waited for a few minutes after knocking lightly before Killua appeared from behind the door with wet hair and a towel around his shoulder.

"I—uh— Gon invited me for— I mean he has a calculus test on Monday," I unraveled nervously.

He gazed at me with a bored expression like I was the last thing he wanted to see.

For a moment, he didn't say anything and I took advantage of the few seconds to stare at him until my chest felt heavy.

Then, he jerked his head to a side, peeking inside the door. "Gon!" He called loudly.

I heard Gon's distant voice replying with something I couldn't seem to catch.

"Take her somewhere else," Killua spoke barely louder than a whisper and for the third time in the course of a few months, shut the door in my face.

Before I could even seem to process what had just happened, I heard him and Gon argue very loudly from inside and I just ran away to avoid Gon from coming after me, which I knew he would. It had taken me an hour of crying in my car to get my shit together again after that.

And then, there were unpredictable days like these:

The cloudy sky cast a depressing outlook as I plugged in my headphones as I sat cross-legged on the pavement with a book on my lap. Miraculously, I had a free track today.

Just when I put in one of the ear buds, my phone started buzzing furiously and one glance at the screen reminded me that it was the alarm I had set this morning since I didn't have time to take my pills.

I fished out the medicine and water bottle from my bag, taking out the respective quantity of each of the pills. Literally a moment before I was about to pop them in my mouth, I caught sight of Killua staring at me from a few steps away with a cigarette between his lips and a raged expression.

It was so sudden, I didn't even understand what he was implying with his glare for a few seconds until it clicked and I stared at the tablets on my palm. "My supplements," I clarified, raising my eyebrows. It was so ironic because this was the second time he seemed to catch me in the middle of some action that gave the impression I was attempting suicide and it was especially more absurd that he was scowling at me with that killer between his lips.

His eyes turned vacant again and he turned around and walked away just as usual. I hated that. I hated that he wouldn't step in and just wouldn't even quite step out of our little orbit. I detested the way he acted like he didn't care and loathed the way that he actually did. Every single thing he did made me want to hit my head repeatedly against a wall.

It wasn't fair how he thought he always had some sort of right over my life when he threw me away from his like I was never there. It was unforgivable, the way he lead me on, the way I kept draining myself emotionally, the way I kept glancing more than I breathed at my window every day. Sometimes, I really wished I could walk up to him and maybe do something so damn unexpected that he'd either push me away completely or take me in.

He knew I saw and I knew he wanted me to. How could it go unnoticed, how one day I fell asleep in my backseat after school on a rainy day and when I woke up, my car was parked in my porch. How the hell did he expect me not to take into consideration the fact that he was always there.

Every time I let him into my thoughts, I gave my self a severe headache along with a promise of dealing with him next time he ever did anything of the sort and every fucking time my knees felt weak when he did. And then it was always just one look at him that made me feel things in my stomach I didn't want to feel. It had been a whole week since the last time he had even addressed me.

"College applications?" asked Gon from my shoulder, gesturing towards the numerous envelopes stuck between the pages of the novel in my lap.

"Acceptance letters—actually, scholarships," I mumbled.

His eyes slightly widened. "Four?"

I sighed as I scooted to a side and made room for him.

"I wasn't expecting to get accepted everywhere I applied; precautions," I explained.

He sat down next to me and started examining the folded sheet he had just taken out of one of the envelopes."Except you were." He gave me a very knowing look. "Come on, your grades, seriously."

I bit my lip. "Doesn't matter since I can only go to one place."

"So, have you decided anything?" He was now examining the other letters.

"I—I'm not sure, but I wanna stay close to home. Maybe York New," I ventured.

"Must be exciting," he commented. "College."

I just stared at him for a moment, putting the pieces together. "Of course you're not—"

He shrugged. "No," he confirmed.

"So, you're leaving after graduation?" I tried to keep my voice from sounding heavy.

He gave me a look, I failed to identify. I mean, I knew they would be leaving. I knew Killua would be going away, but why was it hitting me so hard now? Except the fact that it was always eating me up from the inside. "Do you want to get dinner or something tonight?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

"Uh—I—I've got plans, actually," I revealed. And the surprising part was, I wasn't lying and the even more freaking part was that a few days ago, Naomi had walked up to me in History class, aware of everyone watching and asked me to come over to a party at her house on the weekend. Yes, I wasn't hallucinating.

"Oh," he said. "Okay. I'll see you later?"

"Sure." I waved as he disappeared.

I went back in, not sure where I was going and why I was suddenly so abashed by something that had been hanging in the corner for over three months now.

The two classes that passed after that seemed to be like a dull memory I wasn't part of. I tried not to acknowledge just how exhausted I felt as I walked through the hallway. I knew I was tired, but dodging that for as long as I could seemed like a good option now; I couldn't even recall the last time I actually went to sleep. Coming to a halt near my locker, I leaned against it.

When my eyelids suddenly felt very heavy, only then did I become aware of the blurred and noisy figure in my peripheral vision: Killua was fidgeting wildly with the combination of his locker, just a pace away from me.

I couldn't help but stare. I drank in every detail of his face: how he seemed just as exhausted as I felt, how he looked a lot leaner and how his hands were shaking uncontrollably. It had been so long since I saw him this up close.

Then as if the world immediately stopped, he turned to me and just laughed heartily.

I looked at him speechlessly reminding myself this was the same guy who was scowling at me a few hours ago.

"I forgot the combination, do you mind?" He demanded pointing.

My mouth fell slightly open and I quickly looked behind me, just to make sure he really was addressing me; when I saw that the hall was empty but for the both of us, I swallowed and tried to keep steady then walked to him. "Of course," I mumbled. I knew his combination just like I knew his phone number: by heart. Slowly, I turned the dial, very aware of him watching me.

"How are you?" He asked softly.

My hand froze in place and I turned to face him. I felt a huge lump in my throat when I attempted to answer. "I—" I breathed and the first tear came streaming down before I had the chance to stop it.

His eyes slightly widened.

"I'm so— good," I lied, wiping my cheeks. "How are—" I began to debrief but all at once it seemed too much for my body. I felt the sickness in my stomach and clasped my hand to my mouth. God, I was going to barf right here.

Killua seemed to grasp this quickly as he swiftly picked me up and rushed to the girl's bathroom.

Luckily, I made it just in time and threw up my breakfast in the toilet. I held my palm to the wall for support, thinking just how humiliating this whole situation was. Catching my breath, I flushed away my misery and walked to the sink, gargling several times and taking out the mouth spray from my pocket, again hyper aware of him gazing at me.

After a minute or two, I shot myself a glance in the mirror, deciding I looked bearable and walked to him.

Without a word, he handed me a small candy bar, which I gladly chewed on and felt the bitter and minty taste go away.

He simply kept studying me, with his arms crossed around his chest, as I did him.

In the next instant, I like to blame this on the lack of sleep, I was on him before he could even understand what was going on. Just as I expected, he didn't answer back but contrary to my assumption, he didn't push me off.

It was like kissing a statue, I didn't mind though, I almost forgot how good touching him felt. I kept kissing him and he didn't stop me, when I really needed to breathe, I finally let him go and took a step back.

His expression was unreadable and he stood in the same position as before.

"Sorry," I said, wiping my mouth with the back of my sleeve. My tone clearly indicated I wasn't sorry at all.

He sighed and very gently removed my hand, which I realised was holding his arm. Just before he left, I saw his expressionless mask falter for an instant, his eyes betraying emotions I didn't want to name, but his face was composed as he walked away leaving me behind feeling like a desperate idiot.

* * *

_Composure and determination were among the few things he valued in the compact trajectory of his life and on the surface, they appeared to be effortless, though at times they drained him empty; his own choices, his own decisions ricocheted right back him in the seemingly most harmless of ways but tore him in shreds that he didn't even have the strength to count, much less put back together._

_Times like those—when his will was weak and he wished his settlements would be as simple as tossing a coin and let the contour of what fate decided envelop him._

_Moments when he wanted to cheat—moments when his eyes rested on her. The fragile instants when he wanted to create diversions or even meaningless excuses, sometimes just to hear her speak his name._

_He loved to watch her at sunset—with slight aureate glints in her short-hair, when she sat alone on the park bench or when she threw her head back with her eyes closed as she stood by her locker. He would glance at her from far away, long enough to well his chest up with indescribable pain but nowhere near long enough to satiate his thirst for her._

_And then there were yet more compelling ticks when he would catch a glance of her trying to blink away her tears or force unconvincing expressions on her face, times when she would sneak glimpses of him as they sat by each chest didn't hurt then—it ripped apart._

_But never in his life had his will felt as weak as it did in the few seconds during which she crashed her lips to his. It had taken him every last drop of strength he contained not to hold her right away and if time didn't forbid—seize that one moment and clasp it in his delusional eternity. His chest didn't rip apart then—it went numb trying uselessly to cage the restless pounding of his heart._

_He wouldn't touch her—never. He wouldn't dare approach her, he knew he wouldn't have the might to turn away if he did. He would content himself by merely being her shadow, pouring around her like a sleeting, noiseless rain and she would be the fire in his core that mercilessly consumed him._

_But these were all sole and empty thoughts she would never be aware of. His past would only be a bloody outline that he would never allow near her and just like each one of his sufferings, he would carry every minute secret of his to the demise he was ultimately sure to reach._

* * *

"No drinking," my mom forbade after I mentioned Naomi's party to her as she sat on my bed and I cleaned up my room.

I raised my eyebrows at her in question.

"You're not twenty-one, this is what responsible parents say," she explained.

"So, you had your first drink when you were twenty-one?" I asked, arranging the books on my shelf.

She cleared her throat. "That was a different time," she justified.

"Right." I rolled my eyes. "Those times certainly did call for under-age drinking and some quality high-school sex with bonus window stunts."

She burst out laughing so hard, for a moment I was worried she was choking. "You made your point," she said after a while, struggling to keep her voice steady.

I couldn't help but smile at her expression.

"So, Gon isn't coming over to study today?"

"No." I leaned against my desk as I took out my cell-phone from my pocket.

"You two hang out a lot."

"Yeah," I said absentmindedly as I scrolled through my timeline.

"Are you dating?"

I jerked back so fast, my mobile slipped from my hand. "WHAT?" I asked astonished. "Stop, that's—"

"He's really good-looking and nice."

"He's like— he's like Killua's brother, okay?" I breathed. "God, mom, now I won't be able to look him in the eye. Thanks a lot."

She rolled her eyes. "Firstly, I was joking and secondly, does that mean you and Killua are secretly together?"

"What would be the point of that?"

She shrugged. "He could be a guy with a secret identity and you guys might be hiding your relationship for the sake of your safety," she ventured."He always looks so mysterious."

I pursed my lips. "And this is why I tell you not to read fiction."

"But seriously," she said with a strange tone. "Why don't you ever tell me what's going on between you and him?" she held up the frame with our picture from the side-table.

"Nothing—it's nothing," I mumbled. "I just like the picture, is all. I couldn't cut him out—that'd be weird."

"Claire?" she called in her all-knowing mom voice. "You're twitching your hands and you do that when you're dying to say something outloud."

I scratched my head and met her gaze. "I kissed him," I confessed gesturing awkwardly.

Her eyes widened. "You—did he kiss you back?"

"No."

"Did he push you off?" she asked, gazing at me intently.

"No," I repeated.

"Well—did he say something?"

"No." I sighed.

She just stared at me. "Let me get this straight," she mused. "You and Killua had a fight and you got mad at him and then you apologized, but then he was mad at you and then you kissed him?"

I looked at her with a blank face. "Pretty much, yeah."

She rested her chin on palm. "I love you and everything, but couldn't you just have liked a guy who only wanted a degree and three kids? It would've been a lot less complicated."

I bit back a grin. "Don't worry, you won't have to deal with this drama again until Katie's a teenager," I assured as I bent down to pick up my abandoned phone.

"Yeah, mostly because she already has suitor," she mused.

I snorted and tried to remember just how many times I had mercilessly dropped my cell in the past few months.

"You know Hachiro used to say that a man's hormones are probably his worst enemy."

I gave her a look of complete disbelief as I let out a short laugh. "Not another word," I warned as I shook my head in perplexity and walked out of the room.

"Or jealousy..." she hinted.

And those were the words that kept swirling around in my mind in meaningless myriads as I drove through an unfamiliar neighbourhood, trying to find Naomi's house. It wasn't particularly hard since in the matter of a few minutes a set of seemingly inhumane screams and music was blasting as I neared a darkly lit house.

After parking a few houses away, in the only empty space I could find, I got out and made my way towards her door. It was not a surprise that I hated parties and neither was the fact that I had never been to an actually one. Just as I got in, someone who was presumably high, bumped into me nearly throwing me against the wall until I caught my balance and I was assured that tonight was not going to be pleasant in any way.

I wasn't a fan of ear-splitting tunes or getting drunk but since Naomi had personally come up to me to ask me to show up, I figured it would be mean if I didn't, but I realized my absence or presence wouldn't have much noted by her as I spotted a mane of red haired against the wall, behind some guy.

I shivered as I looked away, feeling very uneasy. It made me consider for a moment the way Killua touched me: it was always very gentle yet very passionate at the same time. The description that lingered in my mind when I considered the kind of intimacy he had with me was that 'he respected my body', I wasn't ever sure if it was a real thing but that was it to me.

"Hey," a familiar voice called from behind interrupting my analysis.

I got so startled, I let out a small scream but luckily it was inaudible between all the commotion that was taking place around me.

"Hey," I mumbled as Naomi stood by me somehow looking very different, like she was utterly worn out. "I though you were—" I began pointing at the wall but then stopped mid-sentence as it occurred to me that it was possible for more than one person to have auburn hair.

"Hey," she repeated dreamily and almost tripped until I caught her arm.

I pursed my lips as I made sense of everything. "Woah—you're—_wasted_," I commented as I helped her stand straight. What was it? Barely eleven o'clock, and I was pretty sure she had done her share for the night.

"What?" she asked confused as she put her arm around my shoulders.

"Okay." I let out a breath as I helped her walk towards where the kitchen apparently was, which was a task itself since not only was she putting all her weight on me but we also had to get past a throng of perkily high people.

"You're so pretty," Naomi mused as I helped her sit near the counter.

I couldn't help but laugh. This was probably the first time I had seen a real live drunk person and I guessed this was a clear example of the kind of absurd things they went around saying. Killua had always told me I talked about dogs when I was nervous or drunk.

"Right," I replied holding back a snort as I retrieved a bottle of water from the refrigerator and handed it to her.

"No, really," she persisted. "You're really beautiful."

I nodded awkwardly as I stared at a bunch of people boom with laughter in the lounge. "Okay."

"That's why I not liked you," she blabbered and I tried to resist the urge to react at her currently splendid grammar. "You know I thought you were always pretending," she continued after taking a sip from the bottle and gesturing madly with her hands.

I didn't say anything. This felt so weird, like I was taking possession of something that didn't belong to me. Just to appear busy, I grabbed one of the numerous cups on the kitchen island and started sipping the unpleasant tasting beer.

"You know, you're first day in fifth grade, you just walked in—all nervous and clumsy and I thought—" she paused as she leaned her chin against her palm. "You only did that for attention." She began laughing so loudly, I thought she was having a seizure. "But," she emphasized raising her finger. "It was way after that that I realised you didn't even know and you always had your nose buried in a book—I couldn't even believe it," she maffled lazily.

I just stared at her, swallowing really hard and feeling like I was part of a cheap soap-opera. I almost even looked around, waiting for the moment some random person would show up and tell me that either this was a prank or candid camera.

"Yeah." she started toying with the bottle in her hand. "And people asking you out and everything—I hated that."

"Nobody ever asked me out," I defended as I rubbed my face. God, this was weird.

"Oh, they did, you were just so stressed when someone talked to you, people took it as a hint—" she nearly slipped from the stool she was seated on before I barely grasped her wrist and she rested her back against the counter.

I cleared my throat as a very passionate couple suddenly appeared against the kitchen door, sucking at each other's faces. I had never felt so disgusted in my whole life.

"Get a room guys!" Naomi bellowed in a shrill tone and to my surprise they actually went away.

"Where's your boyfriend?" she redirected her attention to me.

"I don't have one," I mumbled and swore to myself that this would be the first and last party I would ever attend in my whole life.

"Sure you do!" she announced loudly. "You just don't know it."

"Oh, okay," I agreed. "Right."

"I know what I'm talking about," she convinced. "Killua, you know."

"We're not together," I said reflexively.

She gazed at me, her cheeks very flushed. "Sure you are, you keep staring at each other when the other isn't looking." she chuckled. "He's so into you."

I looked at her with my eyebrows raised, feeling speechless. I gulped the whole drink down in one go, my head feeling slightly heavier; getting drunk would be so much better than this conversation.

"Although you do know how much he's into you, literally," she added raising her fist in the air. "Unbelieveable in bed."

My blood would be on fire from all the embarrassment I almost experienced as soon as I understood her first sentence but it was the second one that held my attention. I froze immediately and jerked my head in her direction."What?"

"Yeah, I mean, you know," she roved happily.

"You—you _slept_ with Killua?" I asked in incomprehension.

She blinked at me. "Yeah, but that was ages ago and not anything real." She was examining the bracelet on my wrist now.

Suddenly, I wasn't regretting slamming the locker door in her face anymore. "When?" I asked more aggressively than I intended.

She sighed tiredly and seemed disoriented for a moment. "Last year, start of term he—I don't know," she said confused. "He just wanted some stupid keys to that dumb teacher's apartment."

I clenched my fists, crumpling the cup in my hand. "_Who_?"

"Killua," she said innocently.

"No!" I said loudly. "Which teacher?"

She pouted and then dropped her gaze, like she would fall asleep at any moment. "That Isawa guy."

I stared at her with my mouth wide open. "Why the _hell_ would he need you to get a pair of keys—why the fuck would he even need a pair of keys?" I questioned exasperated.

"I don't know—" she said pensively. "That was all he said..."

I held my breath. "How did you—I mean, was there a specific way you were supposed to get the keys or something?" I probed trying to come up with anything.

Her face went blank and then she giggled breathlessly. "That old man's a pervert; I screwed him."

I gritted my teeth and glared at her.

Once more, she almost dropped to the floor but I held her up and carried her upstairs to the only room which I could find unoccupied at the moment. She climbed in the bed as soon as we got in and I threw the sheets on her before I got out and walked downstairs feeling very numb and disoriented.

Just as I stood on the last step, I was very sure I saw a blur of silver-hair disappear in my peripheral vision. I clenched my sweaty palms and left with my rage at its zenith. I couldn't stop my hands from shaking as I walked away, leaving the uproar behind me.

I tried uselessly to concentrate on the cold wind hitting my face as I roamed in no particular direction. I felt so incredibly hollow, unimaginable anger seeping through me. It was merely a few moments later that my resolve broke and I stopped as I spun around.

"STOP FOLLOWING ME!" I roared digging my nails in my palms.

Killua stood there unabashed, with his hands in his pockets, staring at me very intently; only a part of his face was visible in the streetlight.

A very long silence followed, in which we just kept looking at each other. My breathing was so loud, it was the only thing that could be heard in the dead of the night. As soon as I regained any feeling in my legs, I turned around and sautered forward.

"Listen to me," he said as he casually walked beside me.

"No," I stated briefly still pacing.

"Claire, honestly, you need to know—" he began.

I froze in my tracks. "I don't need to know anything! I already heard everything there was to it, the last thing I wanna see right now, Killua, is your face, okay?"

He shook his head at me. "Let me just clarify that—"

I resumed walking. "Let you clarify what? That all this time I was the one who's been consuming herself over the fact that I did everything wrong and I was the sole culprit while you've been crawling around town fucking every single—"

Abruptly, he grabbed both my wrists and then held them in one of his hands as he pushed me back against the nearest wall, his palm over my mouth, silencing me.

"You're drunk," he observed quietly.

I narrowed my eyes at him, pushing him back. "I'm not drunk," I emphasized.

"You are," he convinced. "Let me drive you home."

I closed my eyes and bit my tongue. "Killua, I'm not—" somewhere in between that, I involuntarily stumbled forward. I found it impossible to accept that he was right. I wasn't drunk, _okay maybe_ a little buzzed.

He held his hand out to me, one of his eyebrows raised.

I ignored him, trying to steadily make my way to my car. It wasn't surprising that he was right beside me as I held the bonnet for support.

"Easy way," he proposed calmly. "Hard way." He revealed a pair of car keys dangling from his finger, which I recognized as mine.

I couldn't explain the rage I was experiencing in that minute, still somehow, acting reasonably, I got in the passenger seat and leaned my head back.

He was already seated and had started the engine.

I expected his next justification beforehand, when more than a few seconds passed and the car didn't move.

"You're high _and_ you're being emotional."

His words sent an empty feeling through me. "I'm being _emotional_?" I demanded astonished. "_I'm_ being emotional?" I repeated unable to comprehend his words.

"Yeah," he answered simply, this time he reversed and pulled out.

"You've got _nerve_, being the bastard you are after all of this." My voice was trembling now.

"Listen to me," he commanded in a terrifying tone. "I _never _cheated on you."

"WHY DOES IT EVEN MATTER ANYMORE?" I asked consumed with wrath, not caring just how loud my voice was.

His jaw hardened. "It matters to me."

"Shut up!" I said exasperated. "I don't wanna hear it, I—" my voice broke somewhere in between these words. I cried a lot, but I had never cried this loud and this unexpectedly as I suddenly did now.

I saw Killua's hand shiver on the steering wheel. "Don't—please," his voice was so weak and begging.

I covered my face with my hands. "It's not fair," I choked out. "You—you don't get to do this to me."

"I never meant to—"

"But you do! All the time, Killua." I let out a loud sob. "This hurts."

His expression was so crumpled, every part of me ached just from a glimpse of him.

"I—I know I'm _selfish—_and—" I breathed, trying to force out the words. "I have my fair share of regrets—_my fault._" My whole figure shook uncontrollably. "I know—but right now, your lies are too much to take—I never said anything, figuring neither one of us is innocent but—" I inhaled deeply. "You're _wrong_ in what you're doing to me—you don't get to stand on the borderline. You're just allowed to go around doing whatever the hell you—" that was as far as I was able to continue speaking.

He was so firm and unmoving all of a sudden that it seemed to me as if he had stopped breathing. "I don't owe you any explanation," he affirmed as he took a turn.

I gazed at him with incredulity. "You don't?" I asked weakly.

"No."

I shut my eyes tight, blocking the tears and let the poisonous fumes of his statement settle in me. "What am I supposed to do Killua?" I asked desperately, my voice shattering. "Do you even fucking know how it feels picturing you with someone else?" I never wanted to voice this, I didn't want to admit this to myself but somehow the words escaped me before I had a chance to even consider them.

He rapidly shifted his eyes, his expression was a blend of tender and stiff now. "Don't be pathetic, you know perfectly well that there's no one for me except—" he paused immediately when he acknowledged just what he was about to say.

Even though I knew he wasn't going to complete that sentence, it somehow should've made me feel better, instead it was all the more hard to take. His words were so painful, my throat started burning severely. I started coughing frantically after a few seconds. It seemed to me that it was nearly impossible for me to inhale a single breath.

"Claire?" he asked anxiously when it didn't appear to be stopping anytime soon.

If anything, it was getting worse by the moment. It would be ridiculous if after everything I'd been through, I'd die of a breath shortage.

In the matter of seconds, he hit the brakes and dug out a water bottle from the back pocket of his seat. He patted my back forcefully a few times until at last, I felt air rush into my lungs and it was the most agonizingly beautiful thing ever.

I sipped the water after he forced the bottle in my hand. My windpipe was hurting like hell.

He sighed as he watched me rub my face wildly with my hands. "Why are you doing this to yourself?" he debriefed in a defeated voice.

I bit my trembling lip and stared at him through my streaming eyes. "_You're_ doing this. You _ruined_ me Killua," I accused feeling perturbed.

He didn't meet my gaze, instead his eyes were glued to the windshield.

"But you know what the worst part is?" I continued after catching my breath. "That I can't bring myself to regret it," I confessed helplessly. "Just once—_one time_, I wish I could tell you that I hate you and mean it—one time. I'm tired of lying to myself— I'm _so_ tired of this."

At last, he bore his gaze into mine. My heart stopped beating somewhere in the middle of that act. Very slowly, he pressed the back of his cold hand against my cheek and I felt my body unwillingly relax under his touch. Still gradually, he moved closer and leaned his forehead against mine.

I despised the warmth I felt in my chest, I loathed every part of it.

He didn't move, we just kept breathing in each other's exhales for a very long time until he sighed and drew away. I knew in that very instant that we were both as intransigent as the other and this was just a dead end.

"You want to hate me," he whispered in a vague tone as he looked me straight in the eye. "I'll _make_ you hate me, I promise," he confirmed putting his hands in his pockets and throwing a very dark look outside the window. "I swear, I'll make you loathe me," he repeated just a second before he opened the door and got out.

"Killua, _wait_!" I pleaded breathlessly as I stormed out before even being aware of doing so.

He kept sauntering forward like he hadn't even heard me.

"I'm—please don't go—you're right, it's my fault. I'm sorry," I quickly rushed through the words. I felt so weak and desperate.

He stopped in his tracks and briefly turned to me. "Don't you—"

I interrupted him before he had the chance to flip everything around. "It doesn't matter." I shook my head. "You're right, you don't owe me anything and I don't care, you're right—just please don't leave," I begged, walking towards him. If he left now, I wouldn't have the strength to reach him again.

He kept watching me until I was barely a step away from him.

"Don't leave," I requested, pressing my forehead to his chest and letting the tears, stream down silently.

His whole figure seemed to shake all of a sudden, I felt his breath hitch. "Claire, _please_ don't do this to me," he at last supplicated, the artificial emotionless veil forged in his voice faltering.

"_Please_, not this time." I whimpered, closing my eyes.

I felt his cold palm on my neck as he spoke. "You have to stay away from me." I tried not to notice how his voice was gradually becoming firmer. If he did make up his mind again, it would be too much.

"No, I don't—"

He pushed me away, shaking his head as he stepped back. "I can't do this." he pressed his fingers to his temples. "I won't let you—"

"This isn't going to go anywhere!" I vociferated. "Killua, it doesn't have to be this way—"

"No," he concluded with authority. "I watched you almost die before my eyes, do you have any idea what would have happened if I showed up just a moment too late? And you're still here, even after going through all of that?" he demanded out raged.

I sighed as I put a hand on my forehead. "That's _over_, it's not gonna happen again—"

"How do you know?" he questioned. "Everything linked to me is _treacherous_, this isn't a game Claire, use your senses."

"Okay, then, it's not gonna be unsafe if nobody knows," I allusioned.

That was when he went completely still. "What?" he asked incredulously.

"Killua," I whispered, wrapping my hand around his. "It can change, I mean—nobody will have any idea and we can—"

A look of utter disbelief covered his face, in the next instant he aggressively broke away from my hold. "Keep your mouth shut," he hissed venomously as he grasped the meaning of my words.

"No, it's okay—I don't care, it doesn't even have to be real that way, we can—" I breathed.

"I swear to you, if you say one more word, I will _hit_ you," he roared as he violently took hold of my arm and lead me back to my car. "You _see_?" he debriefed. "This is what makes me despise myself, you're ready to degrade yourself now for me; I don't wanna even _look_ at you."

"What else am I supposed to say?" I answered back. "I'll do anything."

"Is that what you think I want?" Blunt rage flashed in his eyes. "To snog you, _screw_ you?" The stupefaction of his voice was beyond limit.

The quietude that followed was enough of a reply.

He nodded. "I'm glad you think so highly of me. I'm not going to ruin your life, do you understand that?"

I heaved a sigh. "You're okay with hurting both of us over and over, and what's all this even for?"

He threw the door open and gestured for me to get inside the driver's seat. "Yes Claire, I'm _okay_ with hurting you, actually I'd rather see you cry in front me a million times than having to see you dead before me."

I kept staring at him wordlessly. "At the end of the day, you won't have any regrets?"

"It doesn't matter."

"I matters to me," I echoed his prior words. "_Everything_ about you matters to me, Killua."

"You have to stay away from me," he said concretely.

"What if I don't?" I shot back with no hinderance.

His gaze dropped for a moment before he met my eyes again. "I don't want you in my life."

And that was when the wrath that I had been suppressing in fought its way out. "In that case, what makes you think you have a right to be in mine?"

He jerked his shoulders and I noticed how hard his jaw was. For the first time in the course of knowing him, he was speechless.

"You're the one who doesn't owe explanations and you're the one who has rights over everything, but let me clear this up for you: either you step in or you step out, there's no standing on the borderline, because I'm not a fucking pinata, Killua."

"I'm not doing this," he ended. "I'm not gonna argue with you."

"Why? Because you don't have anything legitimate to say?"

He sighed. "Get in, Claire. Go home." He held the door open for me.

I kept my eyes on him as I obliged and fastened the seat belt around me. "Yeah, just keep side-tracking your way out of life."

He leaned down and peered at me through the open window. "I have a lot of legitimate things to say, Claire; but they wouldn't be fair to you."

"Since when do you care about me as much as to consider what's fair for me or not?"

His face hardened as he took in my words. "You know what Claire?" he whispered glancing at me, his eyes full of dismay. "You really _are_ selfish." With these words, he strode away and I couldn't help but acknowledge how empty I was feeling.

The scent he had left behind in the car seemed to fuse with the dark and wound around my throat like a painful reminder of memories that I was desperately holding on to and the future that seemed to lurk away farther and farther into an undefined horizon.

_Ardour slashes through the soul bearing an essence of pain_

_As from two opposing currents results a hurricane._


	21. Mitigation

I honestly never expected to be updating according to schedule this time, this is a true miracle. This chapter has been written in the form of patches that were ultimately put together, some of the scenes were written a month ago and most of it I just wrote in a day like psychotic maniac and it has been edited, deleted, started over; long story short: it was mess BUT, I have my amazing Yui to thank for the motivation because GOD, she has made the most amazing drawing of Claire, that you guys can check out here:- : / / kigamin . tumblr post / 145474062869 (no spaces). I still can not believe actual fan art has been made for this story. THANK YOU YUI. Secondly, I have to thank one of the most important and awesome people in my life, Aqib, I don't even know where to begin and how to even express what you mean to me but this story would not even exist without you and neither would I (trust me guys, he is like the heart and soul of my confidence, my inspiration and my _everything_). Now, hopefully, since my exams are over, I'll bombard you with chapters! (but don't take my word for it please, I suck with promises.)

My wonderful betas, all of you who read, review and follow, you don't know how much this means to me. Also, guys, people who PM me don't need to apologise after every sentence or feel nervous; for the new readers who do, you have to chill because I feel like I'm literally the most dorky and approachable person ever, I guess? So, feel free to send me a message anytime.

I don't get why you're still reading my rants instead of the chapter but since you are I must warn you, it has way too much drama. So, dig in? Oh, and Ramadan Mubarak!

Chapter: 21

* * *

**"Mitigation."**

* * *

The first and foremost thing that happened to me as I stumbled out of my car in the morning was that someone saved my fall by seizing my arm an exact nano second before I made contact with the pavement and elliptically enough, that someone was Killua.

I felt my teeth ground together just as I caught sight of him. Not giving it another moment's thought, I pried his fingers off my arm and forcefully pushed his hand away. "Don't you _dare _touch me," I whisper-shouted, resisting the urge to step on his feet and run away; enraged was a _mild _way of describing my condition, time-bomb would have been more accurate.

"Don't be _dramatic_," he retorted, grimacing at me like we had fought over a box of candy.

I reflexively glowered at him but it eventually, it settled into a simple stare on seeing his expression; when a profuse instant of just gazing at each other passed I understood he had something to say and if the guy standing in front of me was the asshole I knew, he wasn't going anywhere until he did.

"What _now_?" I took initiative, drawing the starting line for him. My voice was rough and almost unrecognizable after the episode of aggressive coughing I had encountered last night. Turned out, my body thought dyspnoea was a successful way to deal with profuse stress.

His eyes attenuated as he processed the change. "What happened to your voice?" It was very clear that primarily, he was trying to delay whatever he came here for at all costs because it would have taken something more than just a slumber to chase last night's events out of our minds; that would be if one of us did get any sleep, I knew I didn't and it wasn't just the dullness of his eyes that told me he didn't either.

"_You_ happened," I enlightened, making very sure he caught the edge in my tone.

He lightly rubbed his jaw with his finger. "Honey," he stated sulkily.

My eyebrows shot up reflexively. "What?"

"For your throat," he clarified when he caught my shaky response.

It wasn't just the fact that I had now officially started my day with a wave of humiliation, but additionally, last night's anger hadn't quite faded away. "I know your whole world revolves around my health, but why are you here?"

After his traditional move of sinking his hands in his pockets, he shifted his eyes to firmly meet my gaze. "I came to apologise, for yesterday," he unraveled as casually as he was recalling a picnic.

Not only did his words leave me speechless, but it took me about three minutes to come up with a bunch of syllables that would make sense to a human. "Really? Exactly _what_ are you sorry for?" I couldn't help the scepticism in my tone.

"The way I treated you," he revealed with absolutely no hesitation. "I didn't mean to—be aggressive with you; I'm _sorry_ if I hurt you."

My mind had decided to answer with a mute ogle but the way he kept staring at my arm clearly indicated he had other intensions. After a few silent seconds I sighed and pulled my sleeve back to my elbow. "You didn't hurt me," I assured, placing my forearm in full-view.

His jaw relaxed on obtaining the knowledge that his grip had done no damage but if he thought I was letting him off the hook withut being the bitch I was, he was _very _wrong.

"Not physically at least," I added before he even had the chance to say something appropriate.

His shoulders slightly dropped as he sighed. "Listen, last night, I didn't behave as planned."

My eyes widened as I made sense of his statement. "_Planned_?" I demanded in utter disbelief. "You _plan_ emotions?"

He shut his eyes and gritted his teeth when he realised what he had just let slip. "I meant to say—that yesterday was just a momentary _moment_ of— indecision."

I nodded, trying to push back the rage that was slowly making its way to my brain. "Momentary moment?"

"My judgement was clouded," he backed up while gesturing with his hand.

"_Wow_, did you just rip that all off from a dictionary? Let me guess, _Oxford_?" I crossed my arms in front of my chest and scowled at him. I didn't want to lash out on him, but I knew I was going to.

He rolled his eyes. "Everything aside, you need to get over this," he demanded in a concrete manner. "It would be better if you pretended that the last few months didn't happen."

His words left me feeling so hollow and unstable that I had to clench my fists hard to keep that from aiming at him. "Give me a timeline," I advised. "Let me know how far back I have to take my amnesia, I'm guessing, last September? Well, just so you know forgetting isn't gonna _change _anything; I mean, if I forget everything that happened last year, am I going to get my dad back?"

He froze in place as he wasn't expecting the weight of what I had just voiced.

"Yeah, I'm sorry if I'm not able to rewire my whole system and cut you out, and I'm _sorry _if I don't work according to a _plan_ and I am so _sorry_ that I'm not able to let go, unlike _you_ of course, did you plan all of that too?" This was the part where I was no longer in control of what I was saying or doing.

"What?" he asked in incomprehension.

"Yeah, I mean, I wouldn't even be surprised if you told me that whatever we had wasn't even real; was I part of your plan too? A promising candidate like Naomi?"

His gaze broadened before settling into a vicious glare. "Just _shut up_."

"Because it's like I don't even know you anymore, or maybe I never did in the first place," I accused senslessly. "I feel like an idiot that for a moment I considered when you apologised, that it would be followed by something more justified like, 'Hey, Claire, I'm sorry for being the asshole I am, you deserve to know why I keep fucking up and pretending that it never happened'."

His gaze narrowed before he eventually looked away. "I'm not here to argue."

"Then what are you here for?" I questioned, feeling my temper surge. "I don't want your apology, what I want is the truth. I want to talk to you, I want to _figure_ this out."

The quietude that followed settled something vague but present in the atmosphere. "Like I said," he asserted with finality. "I don't owe you _any _explanation." He sharpened his prior words by adding: "And you have _no_ concern and _no_ business in my personal matters."

It wasn't only his locution, but the harshness of his tone left me so aback, I actually flinched.

He sighed as he saw my reaction and just for a moment his face settled into a visual of regret, before he turned around and walked away.

_"This was a mistake." _I heard him confess barely louder than a whisper, and the worst part was that I didn't know whether he was referring to this conversation or every moment we had.

**Gon's P.O.V:-**

"Just write it down on your hand," endorsed the blonde girl with the locker next to mine as I attempted to cram the same calculus formula for the seventh consecutive time.

"Uh—that would be—_wrong_," I apprised indecisively.

She squinted at me, appearing rather offended by what I had just said.

I opened my mouth, giving a shot at saying something compensating; that was when I spotted a very disoriented looking Killua sauntering through the hallway, apparently heading in the opposite direction of where he should have been going. "Excuse me," I absolved absent-mindedly as I approached him.

"Killua?" I called as I shook his shoulder lightly.

He jerked back immediately before he met my gaze. "Gon," he mumbled with a sigh.

"Are you _okay_?" I debriefed cautiously, becoming aware of the empty look in his eyes.

He blinked briefly before answering. "Yeah—yeah." He nodded in manner that gave off the impression of him trying to convince himself more than me. "I—I have to go," he muttered lowly.

"Where?" I questioned, not sure anymore that he was in his senses.

He stared at me dumbfounded as if he was having a hard time comprehending my words. "H-home," he said after a while.

"You're going home? Why?" I demanded, still deriving no meaning from his replies.

There was a concerning pause before his next words but that wasn't the only thing that worried me. "To feed the dog," he blurted out and looked content with his answer.

"The _dog_?" I asked slowly. I would've highly considered the possibility of him being stoned under these circumstances if I wasn't aware of its absurdity.

"Uh—yeah, our dog." He shrugged, glacing at me with his hollow gaze.

I held my breath as I looked at him. "Are you an _idiot_?" I tested.

"Yeah," he agreed with no hinderance.

I cleared my throat as I processed his words. "Uh—yeah, go home, feed the dog."

"Okay," he obliged and proceeded forward.

"Uh—Killua?" I addressed just as he was a few steps away.

He turned back and raised his eyebrows in question.

"Get some rest," I encouraged, hoping he would make it back without driving the car off some cliff.

"Yeah," he repeated in a weak tone and was out of sight.

Approximately two minutes later, as I was still staring in the direction he went, a very unstable and enraged looking Claire stromed past me, her whole figure shaking.

"Claire?" I tried as I followed her.

"_Don't_," she warned murderously as she faced me for an instant with her eyes full of furious and unshed tears, then resumed her march.

"What happened?" I asked, still tailing behind her.

"Nothing _yet_," she hissed in a fuming manner. "But your best friend's murder, hopefully pretty soon." She was short of breath and her voice was low and raspy.

"Did you guys fight—" I attempted to keep my tone coaxing. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to show that bastard exactly what he subscribed for," she clarified hysterically.

"Wait, he's not—" She was strolling ahead so rapidly, that it was becoming quite a task to keep track of her between the whole swarm of students.

"He's in history," she interrupted bitterly. "And I'm gonna drag him out by his _hair_," she seethed through gritted teeth. "Maybe that will serve as a wake up call to his deluded and _bastardic_ mind."

"_Okay_," I mused as I took into consideration her newly invented word. I grabbed her elbow to bring her to a halt. "Killua went home."

She was about to protest but went still as soon as she processed my words. "That—" she breathed out as if she couldn't come up with a bad enough insult for him. "That—_lying, cheating, mother-fucking coward_."

I blinked, startled by the intensity of her wrath. "Um—what happened?" I spoke quietly, struggling not to provoke her in any way.

She remained silent for a long moment, just exhaling and inhaled loudly. I could almost see smoke coming out of her ears and was surprised that regardless her arousal, her face was just as pale and colourless as always. "I—" she began. "I—he, last night he—I didn't know and then Naomi—" she halted again, trying to keep her voice steady.

As soon as she mentioned the name, it clicked and I quickly grasped the meaning of her words. I couldn't help the guilt that was surely all over my face.

"And then—he says to me—" she blabbered incomprehensively.

"Did he tell you that he doesn't owe you any explanation?" I guessed on point.

Her eyes darted to mine immediately and broadened. "How—do you—?"

I grimaced. "That's Killua; it's his defence mechanism tag line, the flechette he throws right between his fucked up and answerless phase."

She leered at me in disbelief until she was clearly on the verge of tears as she clasped a hand on her face and maffled a sob.

My eyes widened abruptly. "Claire—" _Oh, God_. She was about to cry.

She pressed her fingers to ger eyelids. "I'm _not _gonna cry," she protested, trying to convince me and still unaware of the fact that her cheeks were now wet.

I couldn't help but acknowledge the sinking feeling in my heart as I watched her. "Come on." I gestured backwards with my head. "Let's get you what you need."

She rubbed a side of her face with her palm and sniffed. "What?"

"Something to drink," I unraveled. "And the explanation you deserve."

**Claire's P.O.V:-**

I sucked in the chilly morning air as Gon led me up on the top bleachers, holding two cups of hot chocolate. We were surrounded by the quotidian hazy and cold setting as he sat down beside me and handed me the paper container.

"Thanks," I mumbled, putting my free hand in the pocket of my coat. "Enlighten me," I invited.

He glanced at me and lightly rubbed his jaw. "Do you know why there's always a dead-end with Killua?" he debriefed casually as if he was asking for my opinion on the weather.

"Because he's an obstinate, indecisive, irritating, fucking mule," I replied easily.

A corner of his mouth lifted up. "Close," he hinted, taking a sip of his drink. "It's because he can't open up."

I looked at him, my stare abruptly glued to his. It wasn't just the fact that I had no answer to that, it was awareness of the consideration that he was right and moreover to the point of a simple knowledge dawning upon me. It was obvious, veracious and unsettling: I didn't really _know_ Killua.

Because as I contemplated Gon, the flashes of devotion that occupied his eyes as he talked about Killua, I felt humiliated and unscrupulous. How in the name of hell and beyond was _I _the person fit to be judging a boy about whom I was familiar with nothing but a faded ghost of his identity.

I didn't want this. I didn't want to hear this and I didn't want to admit any of this. I shook my head heavily, slurping down all of the burning liquid down my throat and expiring like an outraged, wet bull-dog. "I just want to know why a lightning ensuing thaumaturge, a.k.a _Killua_, needed a condemned pair of _keys_ to barge into some shitlord's shit hole of an apartment which I am positively sure is made out of things commonly known to man like...let's say wood or bricks?"

Gon blinked at me and his jaw slightly twiched.

I decided pretending and avoiding _yet another _opulent topic of my idiocy, which was basically just levitating over my head, screaming, _'you're a jackass, you're an asshole.'_ would be best for my dopey excuse for an ego.

"You're not jabbing through this the right way," he chuntered defensively. "If you just look at it from Killua's—"

"_Oh_, I'm jabbing through this the _direct _way," I apprised, crushing the paper cup between my fingers. "And _of course _you're gonna take _his_ side and squirm here and there until you find a good enough excuse to hide the fact that your best friend is a male demon _slut_, a _liar _and a potential _dick_," I burst out, fuming as my grey matter constanltly chanted, _'side-tracker, side-tracker.'_

His mouth fell open and he flinched. "That's not—okay listen," he convinced. "I don't know how to explain this to you, I—" he paused and took a deep breath. "When we first came here, the plan was simple: find the man and get the information he had about Ging. But we decided to start with the sidelines: his apartment, his office; actually finding something there was honestly a long shot but we didn't want any unnecessary commotion. Approaching the man himself was the _last_ option." His finger absent-mindedly traced the lip of the cup in his hand. "We were counting on getting everything done unnoticed and as quickly as possible." He broke eye-contact and gazed intesly at the sky. "And then..."

"And then _what_?" I interjected, straightening my shoulders.

There was a halt of a mere second before he spoke which drove me to another level of insanity. "Killua started making excuses, ways to stay longer." He peered straight at me as he spoke this time.

"Why?" The plain word seemed so fragile coming out of my lips.

Gon raised his eyebrows at me as if I was missing a vital point in our existence. "Because of _you_," he clarified like it was the most evident thing in the space-time trajectory.

I was unable to describe the alien feeling coarsing through me as I processed his words. _Because of you._ The sentence chimed over and over like an undeniably pleasant breeze across my face. _Killua started making excuses, ways to stay longer. Because of you._

"You know that the world can turn upside down, but Killua will _never_ be open about what he feels. He's like a masterpiece made for complicating things, just to keep dodging the truth. He wouldn't admit it," he recounted with the hint of a smile on his face. "He would go on and on about how we should take time, observe and _then_, propping in the pole of royally shabby mitigations, he told me he was trying to get the keys to the man's apartment from someone." The expression on his face was a blend of irritation and scepticism.

"Wow," I backed up, feigning the act of being highly impressed. "Dazzling I.Q." I gave him a thumbs up.

Gon gestured with his eyes in agreement. "He knew just as precisely as hell that he wasn't fooling anyone, but he tried to convince himself that it was all very reasonable and everything was working out." He sighed. "He believes in torturing himself for letting people down, and I _swear_ I have no idea why he does what he does, I can only assume. That's the Killua version of penance," he summarised, looking weary.

My eyelids flickered as I attempted to grasp his words. "Self-abasement, that's what that kind of intimacy is for him?" I demanded, feeling somehow upset.

The answering look that he gave me said enough. "He's complicated, that's how I'd outline him; he has a tacky mindset and he looks for the slightest excuses to hate himself."

I could somehow feel a hint of Gon's dedication towards Killua radiate near me and it wasn't anything short of over-whelming. Whatever these two boys had, and I refused to regard it with such an ordinary term as friendship, it wasn't from this world at least; it was something thicker than blood and deeper than bone, it was too real to be defined. "You should write a book about him," I suggested, attempting to lighten up the mood.

He gave me a shy smile as he stared at his feet. "He's a remarkably intense guy," he asserted. "Five years, and I've seen him forge himself into the person he is and trust me, he's worth the roller-coaster he offers."

I shook my head as I tried to ignore the prickling sensation in my eyes. I wasn't completely sure what did and didn't make sense anymore.

"D-do you feel like crying?" he asked cautiously. "Or—do you need a hug?" he added tentatively.

My exhale broke into a laugh as soon as I caught the intense fear in his preposition. "I'm not gonna cry," I assured him. "But I will take you up on that hug," I wrapped my arms around him and sighed, watching my misty breath materialise and twist off.

His hold was very gentle yet very grounding at the same time. Sitting next to Gon made me feel like a fused bulb, slowly being revived by the sparks emanated by the brightest light there was. "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked surprised.

"For being you," I decoded, drawing back and meeting his eyes. "For being you in a world full of people like me." My voice was incredibly rough, but honest nonetheless.

He raised his eyebrows and surveyed me amusingly. "If the world really was full of people like you, Claire," he roved, standing and holding up his long forgotten drink. "It wouldn't be as horrible as it is. Don't lose yourself judging and degrading your humanity, because you're genuine, and that's rare."

Before I had the chance to say something or even recover from his words, he had already decended and was way past the range to hear me. A breathless laugh escaped me and I bit my lip, thinking if even only a fraction of what he had said about me was true, then God _damn_ it, I had a _lot _of ammends to make regardless of it meaning that I would have to be the one to give up my pride.

I extracted my cell phone from my pocket as I sat with legs crossed on the driver seat of my car. I basically just kept chewing on its cover until I assembled enough courage to scroll through my contacts and dial Killua's number.

With every beep, I swear, my whole circulatory system went insane and punched forward a rush of adrenaline to assist my already unstable brain. He didn't pick up, and I wasn't expecting him to; but contrary to my instinct, I didn't hang up, instead I transfered the call to voice-mail.

I had to take a very deep breath before I could find my voice. "Hey," I grated out weakly. "I know you're listening." I sighed, repeatedly pressing the window button as I watched the glass go lower. "You skipped school today," I acknowledged like an idiot. "Which you do frequently these days and—uh—but _academically_ it's—very..._not_ good." I exhaled nervously and bit my lip. "I just—about—I'm sorry about last night and today. Don't worry—I'm not here to rant on a string of meaningless apologies because that's sort of become our cliche: _me_ fucking up, _you_ fixing it, _me_ apologizing for it and _you_...pushing me off." I cleared my throat hesitantly. "But—I _am _sorry for _one_ thing, and that's _not_ understanding you or more precisely not _trying _to understand you." There was a small pause in which I just let my words sink in. "I know I don't deserve you _I_ don't wanna be without you; _this _is not right, this isn't the way it should be and it's making no sense. I know I'm _selfish_ and...easily blinded by anger and..." I huffed, picking the appropriate word. "...and most probably falling in the category of the world's biggest asshole and—" _madly in love with you _"—an idiot but—it's not, I mean—it's not that I've hidden these parts of me from you, I've always been this way, it's just—every single one of my flaws just goes away when you're with me and—" I heaved a sigh and my voice was firm when I spoke the next words. "_I _don't wanna stay away from _you _and I don't want _you_ to run away from _me_. I don't know about—this concept of an after-life or nine cat lives or whatever the hell that is but—all I know is that we have one life and we have to _seize the moment," _I said quoting his words. "I'm not wasting this one shot at whatever we have by trying to stay away from you or chase you. _Talk to me_, we can work this out—I don't care if every child of Satan is after me because I'm with you—I don't care, I don't care, I don't care." The repetition of the last line seemed to ring on for a while, like a faded echo. "I wanna be with you and—I'm coming over," I informed subtly as I ended the message.

It was a cascade of my own words that was flowing over my head as I started the engine and pulled out. For me, principally, this was the part where I was sure I had fixed everything; one little patch, where I stepped down for him and to me this was the apex of sacrifices. Little did I know that I was in for an eye-opener and things that involved me and Killua could never _not _be convoluted.

The rest continued in a blur and before I knew it, I was walking up the stairs towards his apartment. I raised my hand to knock, but something about the unusual silence in the hallway told me the door wasn't locked.

As soon as I put my fingers around the knob and pushed the door open, an inconceiveable sight unraveled itself before me.

The first thing my mind registered was the absolute disarray mantelling the whole living room; not even a single thing was in place. The second thing that made its enterance in my awareness was the trail of clothing tossed all over the floor in diminishing successions: a pair of black jeans followed by a button-down shirt and a sweater, accompanied by a pair of boxers lying in close proximity to an inky, ruffled bra.

Only then, did I acknowledge the bare-chested, messy haired figure that was seated on the couch with an unlit cigarette between his lips, observing me with an unpretentious look.

I guessed it was the denial of what I was witnessing that rendered me unable to speak as I stared back at him vacantly.

It was about a minute later that Killua resumed the ignition of his cigarette and let out a bored, smoky exhale. "I'm sure you're familiar with _knocking_ because there's this thing known as _privacy_," he commented casually.

Abruptly enough, my gaze darted between him and the shut door of his room as I was suddenly blown by the ferocity of impact with which my head was pounding. It was with that punch that I realised this was the first time in my life I felt so humiliated yet unable to cry. "Why did you do this." The words didn't even come out as a question, just a weak, breathless plead.

His eyebrow arched as his eyes held and impishly unabashed glint. "Come on," he remarked sportively. "I have the right to perversity and fucking up without regrets."

Promptly, the hollow and stricked knot in my chest was replaced by something intensely more acute and devouring: scorching and severe rage. "Shove that pervesity up your ass," I seethed, my fingers gripping roughly at the door frame. "Let me _show _you what regret is," I bluffed in a mentis manner. Just before I slammed the door behind me, I saw the way his eyes widened as he took my words into consideration.

The distance between the elevator doors was shortening as he made his way down the hallway and towards me, still shirtless. It was practically shut as he forced his fingers through it and upto the zenith of impossibility, he pushed it open again. "Get out," he ordered.

I pressed my back to the end and insanely punched all the buttons at once.

His jaw hardened as his eyes glinted with challenge. In one rapid motion, he propped his elbow inbetween and flung himself right inside as I watched the doors seal with a loud thud.

Several seconds passed before I processed the fact that the elevator wasn't moving. A bit hysterically, I attempted to press randomly down the board.

"Don't bother," Killua recommended. "It's stuck."

An involuntary whimper sounded in my throat as I registered his words: I was stuck in a jammed lift with a half-naked asshole. I took out my phone, like my life depended on it, which right now it kind of did and just as I was about to fish out my mom's number, it buzzed informing me I had just received a text.

I tapped it open only to see the meaningless digits and characters displayed before me and froze. Since the past few months, I had been remorselessly throwing my mobile around, that was the reason I wasn't surprised by the abnormal behaviour it had been showing recently. But as I stood in this suffocatingly small place, which seemed to be closing in on me, it finally dawned upon me what the matter was.

My teeth gritted faster than I looked up at him. "Is _that_ what you've been doing?" I demanded venomously. "_Tracking _my _phone_?"

He blatantly stared back.

"_Of course_, like the idiot I was, I didn't even _consider_ how you knew where I was last night."

"Can you blame me?" he questioned indelicately. "Who wants to take risks with a person _practically radiating_ of suicidal behaviour?"

My mouth fell open at that. "I'm not—IF I WANTED TO KILL MYSELF, I WOULD'VE DONE IT ON THE NIGHT I FOUND OUT WHAT YOU ARE!" I bellowed as I forthwith hurled my cell phone to the floor and smashed the screen with my boot, specks of glass covering parts of the ground.

The only thing that filled the silence after the commotion was my laboured breathing. When I met Killua's eyes again, they were charged up with not only over-whelming anger but subsided vacancy. "_What_ I am?" he repeated my words, astonished, breaking them down one by one.

"_Yes_," I spat back, losing control of my actions. "A _monster_, a _killer_."

His gaze was now eclipsed with aggression and fury. "How _dare _you," he hissed.

"Oh, _I dare_, I do. Can you deny_ any _of it?"

His jaw hardened and the muscled of his neck were threateningly pulled back. "Do you _really_ want to play the _blame-game _with me, Claire?" he pricked. "Because, I think you know very well where you stand."

I gaped at him and let out a breathless laugh. "So, _this_ is what it's all to you, _a game_?" I debriefed incredulously. "Pointing fingers until one of us wins the conversation? And you have the _nerve_ to look me in the eye and tell me that we're on _mutual _positions on this matter? Killua, you killed a _man _in front of my eyes!" I reminded. "I _forgave _you, I never even _mentioned_ it!"

He blinked, his lips slightly parted. "You _forgave_ me?" He laughed once without humor. "_You_ forgave _me_?" he asked in disbelief.

I was literally shaking with wrath. "_Yes_," I confirmed. "_Murdering _someonemight not be a big deal to _you _but—"

"I saved your _life_—that man nearly _killed you_," he argued back in an exasperated tone.

"_Because of you_!" I shouted. "_All _because of _you_! Everything was _your_ fault from the start."

He clasped a hand to his forehead and took a step in my direction. "Are you even _listening _to yourself right now?" he clamoured.

"Are you denying it?" I burst out. "Didn't you _murder_ his family?"

His eyelids shook at those words. "It was an assigned—" he commenced before breaking off. "_Stop _it—just _stop_ it," he ordered, his tone becoming lower. "Don't speak about things that don't concern you, especially when you know nothing about them."

"Things that don't _concern_ me? What about _my_ life?" I countered. "Why the _hell _did you walk in when you _knew_ it wasn't _right_?"

That was when he fell silent and just gazed at me.

A very small part of me knew that I had crossed the line, but regardless, I kept scowling back unflinchingly.

"Trust me," he spoke camly this time. "It was the _worst _decision of my life."

_"You know, losing my dad wasn't the worst thing that happened to me. Meeting you was." _My own prior words, so similar to his flashed through my mind in a blur.

All of a sudden, I went too still. Right there, for the very first time, I found out what heart-break was. I felt every part of me crumble and fall into a dark and endless pit. My hand moved on its own, aiming for his face but he effortlessly caught my wrist.

"The first time that I _let _you hit me was the last, do you understand?" He spoke barely louder than a whisper, his other hand holding my shoulder against the edge.

"_I hate you_."

His reply came fast and genuine. "The feeling's mutual," he assured.

_And this_, I figured, was what disorientation felt like, for I had said this to him once before. My legs seemed to have vanished from below me. Was this how it all had felt like to him?

Instantly, his glare faltered and I percieved the humid sensation trailing down my cheek. I abruptly freed myself of his hold and violently swiped my palm across my cheeks.

He pulled back and pressed his palm the metallic board. With absolutely no hinderance, the elevator doors parted and were wide open.

I was aware that it was a very long moment that we just kept looking at one another. Today, we both had broken boundaries and bruised each other. This was the very prominent end of all of it.

I stepped out quietly before tuning back to face him. "_This_," I emphasised, wiping my eyes. "Is the _last_ time I've shed a tear for _you_. This hurts _way_ more than it's all worth."

He didn't answer or maybe I didn't stand by long enough to get one, but it was as I walked down the hallway that his words from the prior night came to me clear and consuming: _I'll make you hate me, I promise. I swear, I'll make you loathe me._ He had kept his promise.

* * *

It was on the last day of finals, when I ambled down the school hallway with a zillion papers clustered in my hand. Briefly stating, the school was a _mess_ these days; if you kept walking straight for seven light years through every corridor, you wouldn't find a single bare space on the wall that wasn't sticked up with gross and colourful posters.

For a person my age, graduation should have been a _great _deal; for a person having the same mental derrangements as me... not so much. Predominantly speaking, I was basically a step away from freedom and _yet_ here I was still wondering why I had run out of cereal this morning.

Barbarously stuffing all the sheets and books in my locker, I dug out my insanely whirring phone, predecessor to my terribly destroyed previous one; it turned out that when you told your mom you had litearlly smashed your cell-phone out of anger, she was most likely to end your spending priviledges and set an allowence, which was a completely new concept to me and I should add that it was not _fun_.

Swiping the screen, I saw that I had received eight texts: the first seven from Naomi; one reminding me to buy my cap and gown, another asking me if I had sent all my invites, a thread of other messages recounting what had happened in the last episode of a tv show that I had missed; and the last was from Gon, asking me what a _Gobbledygook_ was.

I had decided not to wreck whatever grain of empathy that joined Naomi and me, mostly because she never even remembered the instalment of her little drunk confessions saga and partially because whoever these matters were related and lead upto was no longer in anyway a part of my life. Or at least that was what I recited to myself eleven times a day.

I scratched my head with my thumb and reflected on the matter.I was trying to delay holding the ugly gown in my hands for as long as possible and moving apart from all the meaningless shit, my only family consisted of four people: my nonna, my mom, my cranky groom-to-be neighbour and my two months old sister whose life-goal consisted of striving to poke out people's eyes with her prezel sized fingers. The only bonus was my uncle, who lived abroad, so that was that. In short, I had an _army _of people coming to my graduation.

_"It's a type of sandwich. You should ask for it in the cafeteria."_ I replied to Gon trying to keep my face straight.

His answer came almost immediately. "_Is it good?"_

_"VERY." _I tapped the send button and just for a second imagined the scenario of Gon asking the mean lunch lady for a '_Gobbledygook_' play in my head.

_"Okay. I'm getting lunch, do you want something?"_ the innocence of his response made me feel like a sinner.

_"A gobbledygook for me too, thanks." _My eyes slightly twitched as I typed and headed forward after shutting my locker.

Composing my cynically gloating face, I knocked lightly on the baleful sandy painted door and poked my head inside. "You called me?"

Mr. Isawa simply nodded from his desk as he heeded to the files in his hand. "Come in," he invited, pointing towards the chair in front of him.

I stepped inside and took the seat, awkwardly passing a hand through my hair in the quietude that followed, in which he just glanced up at me. "Uh...are you gonna say something or is this a staring contest?" I joked.

"I wanted to ask for your speech, since I'm the one who has to scrutinize through it. You know how teenagers these days enjoy quoting pop song lyrics or strongly implied sexual content." He was peeked at me through the spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose.

My eyebrows quirked up in incomprehension. "What speech?"

He repositioned his glasses, his expression incredibly amused. "Your _valectictorian_ speech."

"Oh, that," I mumbled picking at a piece of string on my sleeve. "_Wait_," I breathed as my head darted up. "_VALEDICTORIAN_?" I vociferated.

His signature smirk sparked into place. "Don't tell me you didn't know."

"What—how—was it supposed to descend upon me by _mystical _means?" I demanded outraged.

He held his hands up. "You have the highest score in your class, I thought that dropped the hint. If I would've known, I might've sent you pegasus or something of the sort."

I clasped a hand to my forehead. "You did this on purpose, didn't you? You're telling me now because you knew I would've—" I broke off immediately as I realised just what I was about to say.

"You would've what?" he questioned casually. "Changed your grades?'

My face went blank. "You—how do you..."

He waved me off. "Some stories are better left untold," he advised. "You were saying?"

I gaped at him. "You—you, I'm sure there are _many_ other people who'd want this..." I paused to pick the suitable word. "..._prestigious _opportunity."

"Why not you?" he debriefed, very interested.

I bit my tongue and pressed my fingers to my temple. "_Okay_—the last time, I stepped on stage—I cataclysmically got a whole event cancelled...you don't want that with graduation—people want to get out of here with good memories not a _barf _show."

His gaze didn't alter and I somehow knew that neither did his decision. "I believe we were discussing the content of your speech," he remused as if the prior argument had never happened.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" I asked exasperated. "You're telling me that I have to deliver a whole _declamation_ in front of thousands of people looking like a _teletubby_?"

He raised his eyebrows. "_Impressive_ wording, tell me more."

I scowled at him. "You are aware that I barely have two days til graduation and last time I checked, I wasn't _Shakespeare_," I whisper-shouted.

He rolled his eyes. "I can help you, if you want," he offered.

"I'd rather choke myself but thanks," I blurted back.

He sighed and returned his attention to his papers. "I might have written a potential sample, it has very nice ideas and guidance on how you could shape your speech," he baited.

I crossed my arms around my chest. "So, are you gonna hand it over or just brag about the fact that you used words with more than four letters in them?"

"I don't have it with me," he notified, scribbling on the sheets.

"_Why_?" I demanded accusingly.

"Because I find that it is not a vital organ of my body." He was stuffing the pages in his briefcase now.

"Okay, so where is it?"

"Most _unsually_, I tend to keep my possessions where I dwell," he apprised with a taunting nod.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, whenever you have it then," I finalised as I moved towards the door.

"I must remind you, you have to submit the speech to me by _tomorrow_; not forgetting that after I revise it you have to rehearse it."

I gawked at him. "So what exactly are you proposing?" I enquired with my eyebrows raised.

* * *

"It would be quite rude if I didn't ask you to come in, especially after you offered me a ride," Mr. Isawa catechized as I parked outside his apartment building.

I sucked in a breath through my teeth. "Trust me, it would sound ruder when you actually did and I said no, so let's just get this over with." I clapped my hands and tried not to make eye contact. God, I was so quirky today.

He arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure—"

"Yeah, nailed on," I assured. "Can you just get me the damned speech so we can both just pretend we don't know each other?"

His eyes settled into a sceptical look.

"Okay, that wasn't funny but whatever." I chewed on my thumb.

It wasn't just that I already had an unpleasant and nearly _fatal_ experience of accepting a teacher's offer to '_come inside_', which I did and it was accurately _cringe-worthy_, but I had frequently heard some nasty stuff about this guy and it wasn't just his axe-murderer beard that kept me on my guard.

He shrugged and ultimately got out. "I'm not coming back down for you," he stated.

"What?" I opposed, sticking my head out of the window. "I thought exercise was healthy for the hoary dudes."

He turned back and took a squiz at me, then resumed his pace.

I huffed as I exited and sauntered after him. "I'm gonna be waiting outside the door," I informed.

"Fine by me," he accorded.

"_And_ I get to hold your umbrella," I constrained, attempting to sound fierce.

He snorted and handed over the handle without hesitation.

As I climbed into the elevator with him, I couldn't help but wonder how this vexatious old man could in any way be holding information about Gon's father.

He caught me surveying him and I instantly dropped my gaze.

"I'm presuming you are currently and as of recently, constantly troubled," he decoded casually.

I struggled to prevent myself from rolling my eyes. "I see you went all out with the using your whole vocabulary in a single sentence thing," I retorted as I fidgeted with the zip of my jacket.

He didn't break his gaze and my words seemed to go by unheard. "And if I surmise further, I would guess by a very intricate relationship," he scanned accurately.

I stared at him struggling to appear unaffected. "Who are you, _the pope_?" My voice came out way more aggressive than I had intended it to be.

One of his eyes twitched. "Behind your anger, are you hoarding regrets?"

I blinked, resisting the impulse of using the umbrella in my hand. "I didn't ask for an extrospection but _amazeballs_," I mumbled monotonously as I motioned with my hand.

"_Denial_," he commented further. "I might consider that as a confirmation."

Okay, not only was I running out of my spectacularly jocular comebacks, but this man was creepily digging through my mind like a book. I forced out a unconvinving laugh. "What am I supposed to be denying?" I needed extra restraint here to stop my nerves from joining in.

"Whatever you are trying so helplessly to cover up," he countered.

"Is that what you ultimately learn in philosophy? Annoying the shit out of people?" I murmured, rolling my eyes.

"Well, they get frustrated only when you're hitting a sensitive spot," he nudged, trying to keep his face straight.

"_Whatever_," I countered, stressing on the word.

"Are you changing the subject?" he challenged.

"There is no subject," I enlightened.

"You're doing it again," he poked.

God, it was _horrifying_ the resemblance his attitude had with Killua's. "On which floor do you live?" I side-tracked, darting my gaze elsewhere. "I think I'm going to grow a beard by the time this thing stops."

"And now, you are looking away," he specified with a smirk.

I shook my head as I squinted at him. "I have a hard time believing you're older than seven but that beard is definitely a century old," I confessed, nudging the doors with the pointy end, duping myself into believing that would somehow speed it up.

He didn't reply right away, instead his eyes scrutinized mine like he was trying to decipher something barely lurking around my irises. "I'm going to be inferring..." he mused pensively. "...that you are in love," he conjectured informally, like we were discussing the national debt or what to have for tea.

My face went blank instantly and my answer came out loud, heated and immediate before I had even the slightest chance to even consider it. "I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH HIM!" _Damn it, damn it, damn it to the deepest pit in hell._

The incredulous and vaunted expression that flashed on his face was devoid of any verbal comment but held a perfect timing with the opening of the elevator doors and God knew I couldn't have been more grateful.

I rushed out like a maniac and tried to keep my expression composed. The rest of our walk to his place was silent and awkward. He came to a halt in front of a black door bearing a gold coloured label that moulded into '5 E'.

I was so endorsed in my thoughts and embarrassment that I nearly ran into him at his abrupt pause, but made a save at the last milli second.

"I'll wait here," I reminded him as he offered me to come in with his silent gaze.

"Of course,"he answered casually as he unlocked the door and was out of sight.

It was about just a minute after he went in that I heard the shattering of an object from inside and what I clearly perceived as a maffled shout.

My whole body went rigid before I even became aware of it. _Burglars_. My brain shot at me. Was someone actually in there? I fidgeted with my phone, arguing internally whether to call 911 or not because I suddenly considered the possibily that he might've just knocked down something by accident and maybe this was a whole misunderstanding.

If I called the cops and the situation was a false alarm then that would be so goddamn humiliating. But what if there really was an impostor in there? Right in the middle of this mental wrangle, I did the most idiotic thing one could have come up in any predicament: I sneaked inside.

The apartment was large and quiet. If there was one thing I had learned from tv-shows, it was that you should _never _call someone out loud in such circumstances. Trying to keep my body from shaking and silently looking around, I registered some noise.

It was after I basically flew noiselessly under a table that I realised it was a person speaking, and the voice was awfully familiar.

"Lock the door," Killua ordered and from the room in front of me, a very confused looking Gon emerged and headed towards the enterance and obliged.

I shrunk backwards, vanishing from his line of vision. Not completely sure of what I was doing or why.

"_Okay_, old man," Killua spoke in a calm manner as Gon reapproached him. "This is how it's going to work: I'm going to untie you _but_ if you make a single sound without my permission, I'm going to start cutting off your fingers; one noise, one finger and if you try making a scene, an arm goes and if I find out you're lying or trying something sneaky, I'll make sure you live the rest of your life with a pair of crutches. Long story short: the more you co-operate, the more appendages you get to keep."

His disturbing words were followed by a heavy quietude in which I could hear nothing but my unstable breathing.

"Clever, Mr. Hayashi," Isawa commented in an amused tone. "_You_, I never suspected."

"So you were suspecting, _someone_," Killua probed lightly.

"Of course, whoever you had search my office, didn't do a very good job with leaving behind no trails; although, I am considering you must've checked my apartment and since there was no clue, I am positive you were involved directly."

I heard Killua scoff and saw Gon's face turn into a particularly deep shade of red. I abruptly recalled the night I broke into the surveillance room with Killua, and Gon was the one who rummaged through Isawa's office.

"How can I help you?" Isawa demanded as politely as if he was asking what kind of tea they'd like.

"We're interested in some particular information, that you seem to have," Killua clarified subtly.

"Regarding what or whom?" Mr. Isawa's voice acquired an edgier tone.

"Ging Freecss," Gon disclosed firmly.

There was a long pause in which Gon's features became dark and serious.

"The resemblence is impeccable," Isawa remarked astonished. "Are you his son?"

Another silent interval passed in which I was certain, Gon was looking at Killua for approval.

"Do you know his whereabouts?" Killua interjected.

"I'm afraid I can be of no use to you in that matter."

"Cut the crap," he interrupted in irritated manner. "I'm not expecting you to be aware of his current location but since Ging Freecss is harder to catch than smoke and you happen to be the only person to have accoplished such a feat, I think you might be more than pleased to lend us a hand, before I separate it from the rest of your body," he added venomously.

Another standstill moment passed before Isawa spoke again, as calm and unabashed as always. "Like I said: I _can't_ help you."

There was a loud banging noise that had me flinching back against the wall. I could doubtlessly tell that Killua had lost his temper.

"I don't have _time _to deal with your shit. There was a reason Ging and another member of the zodiacs withdrew from the election, probably the same reason why there's a bounty on his head and all I know so far is that you're the person who managed to capture him; so, either you tell me everything fast or you watch me as I render you unable to speak again and I should warn you, you're testing my tolerance, and my patience doesn't live far."

I found myself holding my breath when Killua's outburst didn't yield any answer from Isawa.

"_SPEAK!_" Killua roared outraged.

"Killua," Gon blandished, worried. "_Take a breath_."

I heard Mr. Isawa laugh and prayed for the sake of this whole building that I was imagining it because I could see the murderous expression on Killua's face almost too well.

"If I were able to aid you in any way, I would," Isawa redeemed calmly. "But since you don't seem to believe me, I'll elucidate that contrary to what's public belief, what you heard is not true."

"What are you saying?" Gon debriefed perplexed.

"I never caught Ging Freecss," Isawa confessed with no hesitation. "Ging Freecss came to me."

The interval that followed should've been one packed with suspense, if it wasn't for the sudden commotion that had taken place: my cell phone started ringing furiously in my hand.

I was so starstruck by the order of events playing out before me that I couldn't even remember how to decline the call, it was after a whole minute worth of struggle that I managed to shut off the noise and take a breath of relief, but it was short-lived; because as I looked up from my phone, Killua was staring down at me with what wasn't simple enough to be defined as incredulity.

The best part was, I didn't even know how much anger he was charged with after our two-months prior, disastrous, encounter. I guess I was about to find out.

_As conviction clashes then surrenders before declaim,_

_enigma becomes the smoke that rekindles the flame._


	22. Surreptitious

EARLY UPDATE. _Woot woot_. Look at me, being all responsible and keeping promises; this has _never_ happened in my updating history. *Throws confetti around.

Since I just annoyed you with one of my usual lousy rants last week, I am going to be sparing you this time. Let's unveil this plot mystery now? _Thank you_ to every reader out there who gives this story a chance. Dig in?

Chapter: 22

* * *

**"Surreptitious."**

* * *

_"How do you go back to being strangers with someone _

_who has seen your soul?" _

— _A Question That Bleeds, Nikita Gill._

* * *

Life, for me, was an apodictic tapestry that was mainly fastened with strings of ignominious and perplexing moments; regardless of that, the plight that I was currently experiencing wasn't one I recovered from right away and the presence of my former boyfriend slash assassin wasn't the most improbable cause of that.

"Why am I not surprised?" Killua boasted in an inconceiviably balmy tone, still studying my face like an assignment. "You know, if they'd issue a warrant for your search, it wouldn't be hard at all to dig you out; just look in the places where you're not supposed to be."

I blinked at him. He didn't throw a tantrum and I could hardly take that in. "_Hilarious_," I commented; if I wasn't delusional, it almost seemed as if he was genuinely content to see me.

"I see you've taken up snooping as a profession," he enunciated as he held his hand out for me.

I rolled my eyes and took it as he helped me duck out from under the table I had so marvelously concealed myself under. "I know this looks bad," I asserted, feigning composure. "But actually, it's a complex—" I paused to select the proper words. "Coincidental coincidence," I concluded.

He arched an eyebrow, his features something inbetween smug and entertained. "Coincidental coincidence?" he repeated amusingly.

I grimaced at him, unimpressed by his wordplay. "How about you let go of this sad attempt at humour?" I shot, not breaking eye-contact.

"I will, if you let go of my hand," he acceded with a shit-eating smirk, enlightening me of the fact that my fingers were curled around his.

I jerked back abruptly and tried to appear unaffected. It was really bewildering that he was basically barking at Isawa mere seconds ago and now he was quipping around like an over-excited dog. "Multiple personality disorder," I mumbled assuring myself.

"What did you say?" he inquired, narrowing his eyes.

"Nothing." Or maybe he had gone completely bersek due to our captivating skirmishes; it was good to know I was the one keeping it together for once. "I didn't say anything."

He gave me a chary look and pursed his lips. "What are you, ten?"

I squinted at him, holding back the urge to stick my tongue out at him.

"Killua? Is someone there?" Gon asked poking his head out of the room and meeting my eyes.

"Don't worry, just an inconvenient snitch," Killua explicated, putting his hands in his pockets.

I crossed my arms around my chest. "Right next to your usual cynical bitch."

"Aw, the little idiot can rhyme," he cooed, patting my head.

I leered at him. "Do you _really_ wanna end up with a bald patch?"

"I don't know," he mused, mocking me. "Do _you_ wanna end up with an eye-patch?"

"Jackass."

"Halfwit."

"Dullard."

"Imbecile."

"Moron."

"Will you two give it a rest?" Gon interrupted, oggling back and forth between the two of us as if there was a chunk missing from our heads.

"I didn't start it," Killua and I defended simultaneously. The two of us gaping at each other before the sentence was even completed. "_I started it_?" We both repeated in unison. "You—"

"Stop it!" Gon groaned. "I think we were in the middle of something that was _slightly_ more significant than your vehement bickering," he reminded, illustrating the magnitude with a needle sized distance between his fingertips.

There was a silent juncture in which everyone just stared at each other. "Well?" I demanded trying to understand the quietude.

"Well, what?" Killua debriefed, turning to look down at me.

"Are you seriously gonna end it at Isawa's major cliffhanger?"

He scoffed and raised his eyebrows as he caught the casualness in my voice. "What makes you think you're staying?" he punched subtly.

"What makes you think I'm not?" I retorted, matching my tone with his.

"Do I really look like I'm asking for your opinion?"

"Do I look like I would give a damn about yours?"

He blinked warily at me. "What is wrong with you? Why would you even want to be here?"

"I wanna know the whole story," I murmured.

"Why?" he probed confused.

"Because—it's _intriguing_." I shurgged.

"Yeah, well, sadly it's none of your business so," he informed with a humourless smile.

"Technically speaking, it's none of yours either," I retaliated fluently.

"Excuse me?" he challenged, speaking louder.

"Gon's dad, his business," I rubbed in, gesturing towards the undersigned. "So, basically he gets to decide who stays and who doesn't."

Killua scowled at me and we both turned to face Gon who was staring back dumbfounded.

"I don't _believe_ it," Killua seethed as he laughed mirthlessly for a second. "You're _actually_ gonna listen to her?"

There was a very lengthy and soundless moment in which Killua and Gon just gawked at each other but it was so intense it appeared they were making use of telepathy, then Killua simply shook his head in a very slow manner and glared at him. "Brainless idiot."

With these two words uttered, he sauntered back in the direction of the room they had come out of. I trailed behind noiselessly, stopping as I spotted Mr. Isawa seated on a chair as comfortably as if he was on a vacation with the exception of his hands tied up firmly behind him.

His eyes lit up with amusement when our gazes met. "Miss Gaspardo," he welcomed warmly. "Please have a seat," he invited with his eyes. "And you must not worry, this isn't quite what it looks like." The way he spoke made me reflect so deeply on the fact that a man with such a formal way of speaking deserved at least a well perfected british accent to go with it.

I peered at him, thinking for a moment that his convincing tone was only for humour. "Uh—I _know_ everything," I notified, indicating for him to save the crap for someone else.

His eyebrows shot up along with one side of his mouth. "Oh, well in that case, this is exactly what it looks like."

I was in the middle of rolling my eyes at him when I caught the intense glare with which Killua was addressing me from barely two inches away.

Unexpectedly, he leaned in and had me holding my breath as a reflex. "You speak one word in between and I'll have you flying down that window, understood?" he whispered in my ear and walked away, leaving me behind rigid as the walls around us.

"So, are you going to continue or should I roll down a carpet for you?" Killua summoned boringly.

"You're going to have to be more specific, Mr. Hayashi," he advised with such serenity that made me question probably everything in sight, mostly I just kept studying the expressions of the three men before me.

Killua's jaw shifted slightly and my eyes darted to his fist and just a second's survey told me that if I still would've been holding his hand, my fingers wouldn't exactly come out erect. "Yeah, you got us all _agog_, now for fuck's sake, can we pass through this shit?"

Mr. Isawa slightly twitched before acquiring an uninterested look.

"Suppose what you're telling us is true," Killua commenced with a more composed tone. "And Ging Freecss did come to you, I'm certain it wasn't to borrow a milk carton, so how about you elaborate on the reason, _sir_?" he added in the most mocking way that word could ever be said.

"He wanted information," he stated briefly.

"About what?" Killua countered almost immediately.

"As you've mentioned before, two Zodiac members withdrew from the election five years ago and adventitiously enough, they were in leading positions with the majority of the votes; it's such a badly covered up story that it already sounds disreputable even as I recount it," Mr. Isawa derided with a vague expression. "Such empty-headed, ravenous slobs they are, these mafia people."

"You're one to speak," Killua interjected with no hesitation. "The glint of your purity ring, it blinds me." The contrast between his manner of speaking and words was so farcical, I couldn't help the chortle that escaped me but it was after staring into Killua's enlivened eyes that I realised I wasn't the only one; Gon stood by me covering his mouth with his hand and struggling not to make eye contact.

"I'm not objecting, you may categorise me as one of them but in my defence I will say that as a human, I am easily disorientated by my nature."

"Or informally speaking, you're a greedy, bitchy little bastard, idiotic enough to have the keys to this shit hole swiped away by a girl you slept with, who I should boldly mention wasn't even half the half of your age and judging by that, those 'empty-headed, ravenous slobs' are looking like saints right now," Killua censured with absolute ease.

The muteness that followed spoke in volumes as Mr. Isawa and Killua held each other's stare for a prolonged instant. "All of this is out of the context, and I believe you were keen to know about the whole election scandal," Isawa diverted with absolutely no hinderance or constriction.

One corner of Killua's lips lifted up in that asshol-ish way of his and he could now safely assume that he had Mr. Isawa carefully wedged between his indictments. "By all means, please proceed," he lead, his smile broadening.

Just before his gaze settled on the man in front of him, his eyes shifted up to meet mine; it was the malicious gleam they held that made me consider the possibility that he had expertly manipulated his circumstances according to his needs and assured me that Mr. Isawa's sudden agitation and discomfiture at the broaching of his prior procurements was most likely because of my presence.

"If I describe it briefly, the whole election period and the series of conspiracies it is saturated with, it's revolting. But the thirst for power, it's intense enough to allow any methods to attain your objective and you can be sure that massive use is made of this principle, be it death or what can be regarded as worse; because anyone who strives for dominance inaugurates their ambition with a murder and the first target is their conscience."

The inelastic stare Killua had fixated on him was so hollow yet so opaque at the same time. It seemed as if he was calculating angles from his words that someone couldn't even fathom existed. "Who was killed?" he asked quietly, deciphering the meaning effortlessly.

"No body was found, but the murder of Cheadle Yorkshire was verified," the heavy halt that proceeded made my eyes glue to Killua's face, making sure to register his every reaction. "And Ging Freecss was accused of it," Isawa prepended earnestly.

Both Gon and Killua flinched so suddenly, it came to me as a surprise that they didn't break their necks.

"He would never—" Gon barricaded harshly.

He was silenced straightaway by Killua as he held up his hand to a side. "You said _accused_ of," he foregrounded. "Either it's your belief that he's innocent or he actually is."

Mr. Isawa simpered with an astonished look. "Your acuity, Mr. Hayashi, it's overwhelming."

Killua's face remained as expressionless as it was priorly. "Don't skid off."

He threw him a curious stare before resuming. "As I've stated previously, there are no defined extents or rules to the brutality one can acquire in a contest for power but there is one directive that is as mandatory as not to require any mentioning, in light of that, it is common knowledge that the basic skeleton of the authority is manipulated by the underworld and whatever group subjugates the underworld is ultimately steering the entire system like an expert puppeteer and the whole process is so reticent and artful as to convince the measly pawns that they actually have a hand in establishing it. The candidates may all be allowed to take part but the final selection of, say the—" he searched for the appropriate label. "_Top dog_, is made by our surreptitious wheeler-dealers."

"What's even the point of having an election then?" I catechized with uncertainty.

"Consider the complete procedure to be crumbs, thrown around to settle the electorate like good pacified pigeons, deluding them into buying that they have a voice or their opinion matters. They are duped enough to believe that they select who governs them, call it a _dictatorial _democracy," he jested with a smile. "And the most _extraordinary_ part is that even those who are aware of this clever swindle, are astute enough to accept it like a good religious credence that isn't dared to be questioned; after all, it is my belief that there is no gap that money can not fill."

Killua's eyes darted to me for an instant before he repositioned them at his subject. "Why him? Why come up with an absurd story just to frame Ging Freecss?"

Mr. Isawa nodded with ease and readjusted himself with his hand still intricately behind him. "See, the underworld isn't used to opposition or dare I say, they have no faith in it's existence. The only thing they are familiar with is shaping the structure according to what favours them, and your father," he said, holding Gon's gaze. "Isn't a man that can be moulded. Ging Freecss was nonsensical enough to hold the ambition of trying to alter the filthy structure set up by them, I think he wanted to make himself known as a reformist or maybe his morality forced him to speak up, but doubtlessly it was the biggest mistake of his life."

"So, that was it? They blamed him for a murder and he disappeared?" Killua debriefed, frustrated.

"_Momentarily_," Isawa corrected. "Until simply hiding wasn't option anymore after a highly enticing reward was placed on his head, he had no choice but to keep running and it wasn't long before it dawned upon him that his life wasn't anything short of a living hell and continuing that way, no licence, no resources, didn't exactly seem a long lasting plan."

"That's when he came to you," Gon elaborated, holding a very stern expression.

"And emerged with a new, intricate scheme of his: attempting to take his adversaries down. Now you can see just what kind of an absurd thinking that man has; firstly, he was foolish enough to get himself into trouble and stubborn enough not to even admit it and afterwards he had his mind set on taking down the whole wave of his conspirer. I told him it was like trying to exterminate the ground he was walking on, ultimately he would be the one to go overboard, but if Ging Freecss actually listened to anyone, he wouldn't be messed up in the first place."

"What did he want from you?" Killua questioned, one of his eyes twitching with impatience.

"I worked for the biggest intelligence agency in the country, what do you _think_ he wanted from me?"

"Information," I responded before realising Killua had spoken along as well.

"Regarding the opponent faction; he was so endorsed in the actual success of his strategy that I too started believing he had a chance, he had this way with motivation," Isawa confessed shaking his head in dismay.

"Why would he come to you? Did you two associate previously?" he probed dubiously.

"No, but he saw a latent helper in me, let's just say that I was the most approachable person at that time."

"What did _you_ get out of helping him?"

Isawa's eyebrows arched and he laughed a silent laugh. "What _didn't_ I get out of helping him? I was five days away from my retiral, he struck the most convenient deal I could ever have fathomed. In exchange for the data he allowed me to take credit for his arrest; he wanted information, I wanted reputation and needless to say, I got more than what I thought I would ever have. My exit from the organization couldn't have been more respectable."

"So, you gave him what he needed and let him go?"

"I must confess, I had decided in the end that our trade only involved me giving him the information, it wasn't my concern to help him escape but surprisingly he disappeared within an hour after I handed it over; I still can't understand how he actually got away but he is a living, breathing mystery so, nothing uncanny there."

"Did it work?" Gon finally spoke. "His tactic?"

Isawa scoffed mercilessly. "Be honest," he pleaded, boring his gaze into Gon's. "Even as you speak of it, does even a grain of that strategy seem reasonable to you?"

On yielding no answer, he raked the three of us with his eyes before slouching his shoulders forward.

"Excuse my language, but Ging Freecss was nothing short of an idiot. Five years ago, that was the last I saw of him and it isn't too improbable that he's already been taken down confidentially."

"The bastard's _bluffing_," Killua assured Gon when he saw the trepidation that had spread on his features." He stood up swiftly, loomed towards Isawa and knelt down before his binded figure. "I've been putting up with you since an hour just because you were the most potential connection I had to Gon's father and after that extensive crap you just uttered, it's pretty clear that not only are you as clueless as we are, but you've also wasted sixty minutes of my precious time."

Isawa's mouth perked up in a beguiled grin. "Well, Mr. Hayashi, I _did_ warn you beforehand."

A very dark look crossed over Killua's face and his lips twitched with rage. "You have twenty seconds to give me _one_ good reason not to slit out your throat right now; and by the way, it's not Hayashi," he corrected, exposing his horrifying claws. "It's Killua _Zoldyck_."

Suddenly, all the blood drained from Mr. Isawa's his face. For the first time ever, I saw a look of utter and complete terror take over his expression; his previous tranquil mask vanished as it had never been there in the first place. "I—" I couldn't believe my eyes, but he was actually stuttering. "I can tell you where you'll be able to acquire documentation about him."

"Speak fast, nineteen," Killua counted with no hesitation.

"The—the JCI; I am certain there is still an open case anent him."

"Not good enough, would've figured out that much on our own, eighteen," he rejected immediately.

"I can help you infliltrate, it would be impossible for you to get in without my help," he stressed nervously.

"Elaborate, seventeen."

"I—" It wasn't hard to tell that Isawa was absolutely blank on what to say next. "If you give me some time, I _know _can figure something out."

Killua answered with a crooked smile. "Sorry, but do I _look_ like I'm taking shit?" he interviewed in a mockingly horrifying manner. "Sixteen."

I stared between the two of them and then at Gon, who was observing the interaction with interest. "He's not serious, is he?" I confirmed.

Gon shrugged and faced me with an ambiguous expression. "No idea."

His reply left me with unease.

"I'll be nice," Killua coaxed. "You won't feel a thing, afterall, that's a _big_ grant considering how much you got on my nerves today."

"You'll lose even the slightest chance you have to get in that edifice," Isawa played his last cards, now visibly unstable with fear.

"Well, you're alive right now, aren't you? Give me a good decoy and I'll consider sparing your ass," he proposed.

"The auction," I inserted, catching everyone's attention. "It's being held in the JCI premises this year," I clarified when I saw the confused look on Killua's face. "Top-notch security."

"There you go," Mr. Isawa emphasised relieved.

Killua raised an eyebrow at him. "She said it," he reminded gesturing towards me. "That doesn't explain why I have to let _you_ off." One of his sharp talons was now in contact with the skin on Isawa's neck.

His face turned paler than my usual complexion and the way his eyes went hazy, was a clear indication that he was struggling his mind to come up with anything that could aid in keeping him alive. "I—I have the digital blueprints of the entire complex," he finally shot, breathless with effort. "And I can guide you," he added, balming his chances at survival.

Killua finally looked somewhat close to convinced. "Go ahead," he congratulated drawing back. "Continue your _pathetic_ life."

"Once you _do_ manage to invade, how are you planning on breaking in the systems?" I raised doubt, intertwining my fingers anxiously. God, I had no idea what I was doing now.

Killua's visage turned impassive when he registered my words. "_No_," he stated without a moment's thought as he faced me.

"What?" Gon inquired muddled, not yet reaching the point Killua and I had.

"_Why_?" I challenged.

"Don't you _dare_ even think about it."

"You _idiot_, I can help you," I persuaded.

"I don't _need_ your help; it's not your business," he firmly retorted.

I glared at him. "I was talking about Gon and do I have to remind you again that these are his matters?"

"_Okay_," he finalised. "That's _it_." He approached me losing his composure.

"What's going on?" Gon asked as he stepped in between, blocking his path to me.

"Well, she suddenly got the idea to get involved," he responded, shifting his head to catch a glimpse of me.

"Yeah, well you haven't answered my question; it would be meaningless for you to go without having a way to hack through the database." I stood on my tiptoes to make myself seen behind Gon's figure.

"Not your concern and you're not the only I.T wizard in the world," he countered.

"How do you know you can trust whoever you hire?" I retaliated unabashed.

"I said _no_."

"It's not your decision to make," I provoked. "If Gon wants me to help him, you can't say anything."

"You _little_—" he began but broke off and turned to Gon. "Shut her up."

"He doesn't have to take orders from you, he's an adult," I reasoned.

Gon's eyes shifted from one side to the other as he took in our argument.

Killua's eyelids shook with anger. "She's trying to persuade you, don't listen to her."

"No, _I'm not_ and I'd hate to break it to you but this little mission of yours isn't as easy as having good hair or getting into people's pants," I blurted out.

He froze and his eyes broadened with wrath. "Oh, you did _not _just say that."

"Aw, well, I did—"

"Hey—hey!" Gon tore off, pushing Killua back. "Stop _fighting_!"

It was after he made sure that we were both a safe distance apart that Gon turned to me. "Claire," he underlined slowly. "Killua's right, you can't."

"But I want to. Help," I added gradually and behind him, Killua gave me a triumphant look.

"You don't have to and I would never want you to put yourself in risk like that."

"No," I shook my head. "You don't understand." I affirmed taking a breath."You've been there for me at times I wasn't even sure of _anything_ anymore, _both of you_," I appended looking away. "And I know that I can't repay that but let me at least feel like I can be of some use to you, in _any _way. And if it really is risky, I promise I'll drop out but right now there is one thing I'm sure of and that is that you guys have just as much idea of how unsafe this is as I do, which is basically— nothing. So, helping you out is _my _decision and I'll play by your rules if that's what you want but I'm _in_." When I relocated my gaze back up, both of them were staring at me stupefied but it was Killua's equivocal peer that rendered me unable to speak further.

Prior to any response being made, the two of them looked at each other and seemed to be making use of their psychometry once more. Gon blinked twice and Killua's eyes twitched for a second before they finally turned their attention back to me.

"_Fine_," Killua gave in, meeting my eyes directly. "But keep in mind, you're gonna have do it _my_ way, _tigress_."

After he was done with his final chain of ultimatums and threats to Isawa and distinctive comminations to me, Killua exited motioning for Gon to follow.

"Uh—I don't mean to be insensitive," I chirped, confronting Mr. Isawa, who still appeared somewhat disoriented and shaken. "_But_ what about the speech?"

He flickered his eyelids and swallowed. "I—I will e-mail it to you," he expounded in a nebulous voice; I judged that this was the _right_ reaction to have after meeting a real live Zoldyck face to face.

"Right—uh, _okay_—yeah," I stammered, swiftly making my way out and exhaling deeply as the door shut behind me.

When I made it down to my car, I searched my pockets twice for my keys only to find them empty; I became absolutely motionless when I actually did spot them, sitting right on the driver's seat, in my locked car. In the name of fuck—I had just locked my keys _inside_ my car.

"This is _not_ happening," I refused, pressing my forehead against the glass to make sure I had seen correctly, unfortunately even after blinking seven times, the keys were still there.

In my periphery, I saw Killua stroll ahead of me with a huge grin on his face.

"Why are you smirking?" I demanded with a scowl.

"It's a free country," he replied holding up his keys and pressing the unlock button. "I can do whatever the hell I want." The car beeped and he swung the keys around his finger. "Unlike you," he adjoined. "You can't even get in your car," he choked out and began guffawing like a motherfucking idiot.

I kept glowering at him in the whole _actual_ two minutes that he kept laughing until Gon showed up with a bewildered expression on observing Killua's fit. "Let me guess," he evaluated turning to me. "He made a joke."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and took in a deep breath.

"What happened?" Gon asked him when he was done at last.

Killua cleared his throat and struggled to keep his face straight. "She—" he attempted but burst out laughing again.

"What?"

"I FUCKING LOCKED MY KEYS IN MY CAR, _HILARIOUS_, NOW ARE YOU DONE?" I shot at the barking asshole who was still chuckling.

"I have _never _even seen this happen in a _movie_," he boasted putting a hand on his forehead.

"Killua, shut up," Gon mumbled rolling his eyes.

I sighed and pulled out my phone.

"What are you doing?" Killua debriefed.

"Calling my mom?" I explained, raising my cell to my ear.

He took it from me and ended the dialing, lowering my hand. "Why are you being so formal? I'll take you home," he remarked with an eyebrow raised, like he couldn't even begin to understand why I would consider anything else.

"I—my car—" I commenced pointing my thumb towards it.

"Don't worry," he relieved. "I'll drop it off, I promise."

I couldn't decide whether I wanted to slap myself or him because it was only this guy standing in front of me who could go from bastard to thoughtful in two seconds.

"Okay," I accorded as I watched Gon get in the backseat. "Thanks." I walked to his car and moved to open the back door before he snapped his fingers at me.

"I'm not your personal driver, Claire," he rubbed in with a smug mien as he walked round the hood to get to the driver's seat. "Get in the front."

I huffed and pulled the door handle back, just as I was about to get in, I stepped on my boot and would've crashed right on the dashboard if Killua hadn't intervened and stretched out one of hands to stop the collision.

When the initial disturbance of the event passed, only then did we both realise where his hand was. Killua immediately withdrew his palm that was wedged between the car drawer and my chest. His face rapidly acquired the colour of fire and he fastened his seat belt with just a little too much force.

I bit my lip and hid my face behind a curtain of my own hair. If it was humanly possible, he seemed _a lot_ more embarrassed than I felt. Taking a risky chance, I glance back to see Gon's reaction but thankfully in the name of whatever it was that lead the cycle of humiliation, he was so immersed in the screen of his phone that he didn't even seem to be aware of our presence.

Killua kept fidgeting with various objects he had thrown around the section of the front and I was pretty sure he had forgotten how to start the car. It continued in the same manner for a few seconds until he muttered something, rubbing his face.

"What did you just call me?" I inquired, my eyebrows knotting together.

He cast me a side glance. "A klutz?"

"No," I refused, shaking my head. "You said _slut_."

He met my eyes and snorted. "Why would I call you that? You don't even know how sex works—" he stopped mid sentence when he realised what he had just said.

I winced, staring at him stunned. "You did _not_ just say that."

He pursed his lips and scratched his head. "I'm sorry, that was—"

I tried my best to get a clear aim of his face but he shifted so swiftly, I found myself panting after a few useless attempts at smacking him.

"I'm sorry," he repeated grabbing my wildly moving hands and pinning them to a side. "I didn't mean it, that slipped—you can yell but not the face, _please_—how about you have some water, you like water, right?" he suggested, fluctuating between his words like an idiot.

I sucked in a deep breath, knowing very well I had no chance to escape with force from his iron-clad grip, and just gazed at him; getting enough hold of myself to compose my features. All my current rage seemed to be blocking my windpipe. "Yeah, that actually sounds like a good idea," I had actually managed to make my voice sound convincing.

"Yeah?" His tone was guarded, like he knew just how absurd the mere thought of this truce was.

"Yeah—yes, totally." I continued to nod, peeking at Gon in my peripheral vision, who was now observing the exchange silently.

He took out a water bottle from the dashboard drawer and handed it to me.

About five seconds later, I unscrewed the lid and without further thought held it over his head, watching intently as the water flowed down his hair to his visage.

The expression on his face was honestly the most priceless and satisfying thing I had ever seen. It was about halfway empty when he grasped it from my hands and relocated it so it poured over my hair. "_Bitch_," he cursed through clentched teeth.

I caught the front of his shirt and yanked him forward, making the bottle slip from his hand. "You know, it's so funny to hear this coming from a mamsy pansy like you who couldn't help but wet his pants every time the word _sex _was even mentioned," I blowed, clawing my gaze into his.

His eyebrows shot up abruptly. "_I_ wet my pants? You were the—"

"Shut up, Killua, it was _you_—_damn it,_ it was _always_ _you_—you even gave me a complex because of it at some point," I disclosed mindlessly.

His eyes enlarged and adapted a look between surprise and regret. "_What_?" he debriefed distressed.

Promptly, the sound of a door opening registered in my brain and we both turned around to see Gon exiting in a hurry.

"Gon?" Killua called in confusion.

"_NO_," he stated not looking back.

"What's wrong—"

"I'm not hearing this," he announced loudly. "Talk over your issues, _please_," he begged, spinning briefly around to shut the door. "I wanna walk—I _have_ to walk," he added hastily. "Clear my head—of _thoughts_." With this said he sauntered forward until a very small figure was visible in the rear view mirror.

I face-palmed and shook my head. "_Great_."

"Did you doubt yourself because of me?" Killua questioned with guilt saturating his voice.

I held my breath before giving him a response. This was so humiliating, I couldn't even understand how it had even been brought up now. "Initially," I admitted after a sigh. "And maybe even after a little later but—"

"Why would you do that? And over something so unimportant, is that why you starting biting your nails?" he guessed on point.

"It might not a big deal to you Killua, but it was to me, because what is a girl supposed to think when after dating someone for over four months, they never even bring up the topic?"

"And then?" he resumed. "You stopped; I'm betting you had theories."

I couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh at the absurdity of this situation. "Yeah—I had three."

"Of course, you began by targeting yourself."

"Yeah, I thought there was something wrong with me and then—I thought there was something, well—_different_ about _you_," I mumbled.

Killua shifted his gaze to me and scratched his head. "You thought I was gay," he calculated astutely.

"Well, what else was I supposed to think?" I barricaded.

"Tell me your last and I'll let you in on mine," he proposed.

I covered my face with my hands. "This is the most embarrassing one."

"I wanna know," he pushed.

I bit my lip. "I thought—I thought you were religious—I thought your dad was a pastor or something, you had beliefs—and then after that night at Naomi's party, that's why it bothered me so much. You considered any random girl worth it, but not _me_ and then again—God, I wanna know why," I breathed anxiously.

"Claire," he spoke my name gently, like it was made of glass. "I can't believe you're comparing yourself to—" he broke off and straightened his position. "When I was with you, I was in a constant trajectory of what _was_ right and what _felt _right; the guilt and the way I tried to convince myself that I wasn't wrong, it eventually all mashed up together and it—it tortured me. I didn't know the lines I wasn't supposed to cross, _hell, _I didn't even know what those lines were. You bared yourself emotionally to me, I saw every layer and—but that part of you, if—if I let that happen Claire and you found out about me after, I know you would've hated me; you wouldn't have forgiven me, I wouldn't have either."

I looked at him mutely. "Killua—"

"No, if it made you think that there was something missing in you—God damn it Claire, I've never been attracted to anyone the way I am to you and I'm sorry I never told you that you're beautiful, the way guys are supposed to do—I just—I always thought you knew, but if you need to hear it—Claire, you're _gorgeous,_ but the thing is that you have to keep in mind that whatever I say now won't change what I stand by—you have to stay away from me and I want you to never shatter your confidence over something _so_ stupid, do you understand?" he asked, taking my hand.

I couldn't help the way my heart sped-up, I didn't want his touch to still have that effect on me. "You're right—I would've hated you but I don't and I can't and— _God_, what you said just made me step back on every word I spoke in that elevator—I didn't mean any of it, I was angry and stupid and unreasonable but—it took me two months to have enough courage to say this but you were right and you did nothing wrong. Your personal life should've stopped being my concern when—thing is, I was nobody to slam you for that because—who am _I_ to you?" I debriefed feeling myself go hollow.

His eyelids shook as he took my words in. "Claire—"

"I have no right in your life and let me say this out loud, that's how I think I'm gonna accept it. And you know what Killua? I'm not forgetting all the time we had together, because it was the best I had in my life but it's true, good things come to an end and I can't promise you, I'll be able to right now, but I'll try to move on. But I can't hate you Killua and nothing you do can make me. This is kind of like the rain, you know? It comes, it pours, it cleanses, it leaves memories but ultimately, it ends. I honestly don't know why people symbolise it as something indicating sorrow, I love the rain Killua; you were the rain in my life."

I tried not to focus too much on the misery occupying his eyes. The way he kept blinking, he looked so lost, I could hardly image what thoughts were scattered in his mind right now.

"I know I'm not supposed to say this," I annexed, tracing my thumb on the hand with which he was holding mine. "But I miss you, I miss everything about you—" my voice started shaking and I had to take a breath to find it again. "The taps on my window and the way you look at me—your stupid puns and that annoying laughter—the way you smell and freezing night drives with the windows down—" I quickly wiped my face because I already knew I wouldn't be able to hold these feelings in my skin. "—and even those crappy little dolls of yours."

The melancholy didn't even for a second falter from his visage but he managed a wry little smile. "Action figures," he amended.

My whole body vibrated with a silent chuckle. "They're still dolls Killua." I couldn't understand how a person could laugh and cry at the same time, but I was manic enough to do that.

"What about your shitty star books, like they're the definition of class." He mimicked vomiting, gesturing with his hand in front him.

"Yeah, well my astrology booklets are still better than your dumb video games and the inhumane noises you make when you're going down like a _sore _loser."

He scoffed at me. "_Really_? What about you? I get you still haven't dropped that _shitty _habit of putting your shoes on my seat," he observed my boots that were indeed perched on the edge of the seat.

"It didn't annoy you _before_," I deduced grimacing.

"Before what? The _big bang_?" he scoffed, making a sarcastic face.

"Here's a newsflash for your third class, bull shit humour: Katie's better at it than you and she can't even talk," I rejoindered.

"Of course it would seem that way to you, you're both coincidentally having the same mental age."

"Yeah, you're sure living up to your chronological one by collecting dolls," I shot back.

"_Action figures_," he recorrected, stressing on the two words like his life depended on them. "And it's _still_ a lengthy rank below naming your hair brush," he miffed.

"At least I have enough sanity not to laugh at my own jokes."

"Suddenly, you're the pioneer of sanity, well here's hint: sane people don't cut their hair off in anger."

"Really? What do they do? Have a peace tea party with their dolls?"

He took a gander at me, narrowing his eyes. "No, they just keep tripping on their own feet until the inner war ends."

"Jackass," I affronted, not coming up with neither a good response nor a new insult.

"Idiot."

"Asshole."

He clicked his tongue instead of answering with a comeback and shook his head. "I know how to settle this," he nudged, raising his finger.

"Not thumb-wrestling, you _always_ win at that," I refused immediately. "It's like going against a crow bar."

"What about rock, paper, scissors?" he bid judiciously. "Loser admits they're an idiot."

"Fine, but _on_ _recording_," I spiced up further.

I had never seen him as interested and excited as he suddenly did. "Well, then, this phone is about to become my most prized possession," he announced, holding his mobile up and actually kissing its side.

But it was literally about a minute later that same face was so frigid, I couldn't help the consecutive waves of laughter that I burst in as I played the video over and over on the way home. "I, Killua Zoldyck, admit to being an utter and complete idiot," Killua's voice repeated continuously as I kept pressing replay.

"I told you to keep your face straight," I commented, watching attentively. "And the point was not to look a vexed shit, it was more about admitting that you are."

"Are you done?" he fumed as killed the engine in front of my house, not making eye-contact.

"I don't know, am I?" I stretched in the most frustrating tone I could manage.

"Okay, what do you want in exchange for that?" he attempted to strike a deal.

I squinted at him as I threw the door open. "You know what I want."

His face went blank. "Be reasonable."

I stared at him and tried to shake away the lurking heaviness in my heart as I put my phone in the pocket of my jeans. "Then, I think this could work."

"What?"

I cleared my throat and passed a hand through my hair. "Has it occurred to you that we could try to be...friends?" I propounded gradually.

His features acquired the most dumbfounded expression I ever thought anyone could be capable of. "_Friends_?" he repeated with a disbelieving laugh. "_You and I_?" he gestured between the two of us.

I shrugged. "Yeah?"

"Friends," he tried again, like he was trying to taste the word on his tongue. After a moment's thought he concretely dismissed the idea. "You know Claire, it's one thing to believe in miracles and completely another to be deluded."

I sighed and got out. "You're standing at my door, blocking the way."

His blue irises contracted in confusion.

"I'm open to new chances, Killua, I wanna try that. But I have to let people in now, and this is the only way I'm allowing _you _to be in my life; I don't wanna do complicated anymore. If you don't think this can work," I halted, mustering the courage to say the next words. "You can go out through the same way you came in. I won't stop you this time."

Turning around and walking the opposite way, I couldn't help but have the image of his last haunting guise stuck in my head. For as much as I opposed it, I think I had just seen Killua in fear.

_Secrets are whispers, soul-stirring pleads_

_that heave back the heart and strike til it bleeds._


	23. Arcane

This story is now _officially_ two years old and I'm freaking out because I can never commit to anything—ever; considering that, I'm only a chapter behind of how many I should've posted up till now and that's not _too_ bad, right? So, YAY.

I know all I do is rant and chant an infinite amount of thank yous but I can't help it, I'm just so so grateful to all of you. Shout out to Lani for putting up with my unpredictable and shitty updating schedules, you're a hero.

A small spoiler: I'm very close to wrapping up the first part of this story, but until then you guys have to tolerate me and my criminal tendencies that hustle me to add lots and lots of suffering to the lives of the characters in this story. But is all of this redeemed by the fact that this is the longest chapter I've ever written? Let's find out; dig in!

Chapter: 23

* * *

**"Arcane."**

* * *

The susurration that was constantly drumming in my ears as I was slouched on my seat in the auditorium, made me feel a type of discontent I wasn't fully able to describe. With a final defeated sigh, I straightened my shoulders and shrugged on the hideous blue gown.

My eyes scruntinised the whole setting as I decided to give a slight tousle to the uglifying cap perched on my head. I felt a nudge on my arm and peered at Gon from the corner of my eye.

"You can at least _pretend_ to look excited," he instructed, looking right ahead, towards the stage.

I pursed my lips and reatreating, cast him a full glance. His body was so rigid, it was hard to tell whether he was breathing or not. "You're one to give advice," I mused. "Sitting stiff like a holy _virgin_ about to have his _first_ kiss."

He at last, turned his head in my direction and threw me a sarcastic look.

I couldn't help the simper that tugged at my lips. "Did I accidentally recount something based on true events?" I teased.

"You _know_ I like to—take things slow," he defended nervously. "I prefer to be—sure about things."

I snorted looking away. "Yeah, keep that dick _nice_ and safe til it withers," I commented, patting his knee as I stared around through the endless ocean of blue that flowed around me.

He squinted at me. "Well, at least, I'm not lurking like a _coward_ unable to reach out to the girl that I'm basically _dying _for like a hooligan nun. _Oh_, and as a bonus, I'm _definitely _not pretending that I'm not _raking_ the whole place for her," he countered shifting his eyes back front.

I gaped at him, taking several seconds to recompose my features as to appear unaffected. "_Firstly_, here's a prayer," I remarked giving him the middle finger. "And _secondly_, her name is tagged on that seat," I informed, pointing towards the space next to me with my thumb. "And having a full attendance is _everyone's _concern on commencement."

He didn't meet my eyes this time, instead just kept as errect as a sculpture. "Well, you don't have to worry, she'll be easy enough to spot."

"What are you talking about?" I asked addled with the noise around me.

But before he had the chance to answer me, the seemingly limitless commotion in the hall died away after the authorotative instructions to settle down were given.

I kept decrying at the empty seat next to me as the event proceeded through the initial senseless declaims. Risking a look at the end of the chamber, I tried to scan through the rows of families to catch sight of hers but I froze in the middle of the act when I clearly believed to have heard Claire's name being announced in the assembly.

The applause that followed the declaration claiming her as the valedictorian, made me become even more aware of the sudden sweat on my hands. "No _fucking _way," I breathed out. I didn't know whether I was more concerned about the fact that she would pass out right in the middle of that stage with no assistance or that she would most probably make a leap for it and trip.

Regardless of the myriads and myriads of scenarios that wrested at my mind, the dainty figure that made her appearance, submerged in the flowing blue gown, held an expression that was nowhere near anxious or tense; on the other hand, if I wasn't mistaken, she seemed icredibly—_relaxed_.

With absolute aplomb, she tapped the microphone a few times with the tips of her fingers and drew back, unfolding a middling parchment in her hands. Then, her eyes swiftly sweeped through the entire audience before her. "Good evening esteemed members of the faculty and families of my fellow graduates," she welcomed with a gentle smile. "It's truly an honour to be standing up here and having the chance to voice my thoughts." Giving a slight peek to the piece of paper in her hand, she held it up with an impish look. "I have this pre-written speech that Mr. Isawa was _so _kind to compile for me," she declared, gesturing towards the front row, where I guessed the man himself was seated. "But it's lengthy, it's lame and I don't think anybody here would have the patience to hear me rant about the _character-developing _education system that we're _blessed_ with, without going into a coma. _So_, I'm not going to be reading it, because I don't want to be a criminal before I even graduate."

The ripple of laughter that followed her unbelievable words, made me conscious of the strength with which one of my hands had been gripping the handle of the seat.

Her face acquired an unpretentious aspect as she fisted the page in her hand and faced the eyes in front of here with no hesitation. "Today is not the day to read what's already been written down for you; we're not following a script today— we're making one. But most importantly, we're making history." Her equanimous utterence marked an utter silence around, the only sound that preceeded, was the echo of her intake of breath. "Just about everyday of our lives is composed of a consecutive track where we walk around thinking that we've reached the peak of wisdom and the reason why no one gets us is because we're too smart for our own good. We judge others like they're objects and drain ourselves like we're syringes; ultimately, what we inject into other people's system is what we find running through ours—that's Karma, and it hits back _really_ hard," she divulged with a firm gaze, almost looking like her mind was else where. "We're stressing on careers, finding the right professions, hunting down a job _but _how about we take a map and search through ourselves? How about we _find_ ourselves instead of finding ways to _blame _ourselves? How about we make mistakes and accept them and focus on _us_ instead of getting the perfect grades, because I don't think chanting the pythagorean theorem or calculating the angle of elevation or the anatomy of a leaf is _ever_ going to help _me_ out of a stressful situation," she revealed, her sight darting with fierceness. "Because life _sucks_, but it's pretty magical too. You have losses and gains—people who were just strangers last year and right now, they're holding you together. Then, people you thought would be there _forever_ and they're just—" The flow of her speech broke for an instant before she recuperated it. "—_not_."

For a vulnerable moment, I could almost see her thoughts, reflected like glass in the surface of her eyes.

"But I think it's the unpredictability and the serendipity that makes everything worth a shot—what makes life valuable is that it ends," she unraveled with assurance. "So, here's my advice for you: _let it go_," she stressed, breaking down each word. "—the pressure. Go to college, feel _infinite_. Don't live everyday like it's your last, that's _horrible_; to exist with fear and insecurity. Live everyday as it is: _knowing_ that you get only one chance at whatever you do, and _knowing _that possibilities are _endless_," she emphasised.

In the next instant, she was unmistakably looking into my eyes as she spoke: "Nobody has any idea when they're going to end up dead and even if they reach the extreme, it's still a pretty short life." She shrugged with a gleam in her irises. "So, what we do is make memories—_seize the moment_, because what better way is there to live?" she concluded, tantalising an enormous wave of accalamations in the form of plaudits. The surge of the crowd was so instantaneous, it almost seemed reflexive.

"Thank you—thank you _so much_," she voiced, now appearing over-whelmed by the energy she had aroused. "This has _truly _been a life-changing year." With these words enounced, she at last descended the platform with a final wave. I couldn't believe my eyes, but mostly, I couldn't believe _her_.

My stunned gaze followed her magnetically as she made her way through the array, seeming slightly more conscious and bewildered as people actually rose and shook hands with her. Escorting her nervous promenade with my eyes, it almost appeared as if her prior confidence was the result of an incantation that was now gradually wearing off.

Eventually, she carefully passed through the row I was settled in and plopped down in the vacant seat next to mine. For several seconds, she appeared lost, having no clear idea of her surroundings until her gaze transfered up to me.

"_Aha_," she mused. "Who's snooping _now_?"

I arched an eyebrow at her. "We have alphabetically successive surnames," I notified, because she genuinely looked like she believed her own words.

Her eyes narrowed as she opened her mouth to oppose. "You mean your _fake_ surname; if you used the _sturdy_ one, you'd be _way _back there," she stressed in a dappy manner, gesturing towards the final lines.

I cast her a chary look before taking her arm and shifting her position so I could clearly see her eyes, and doubtlessly, there was something very hazy and off about them.

I face-palmed and sighed, but the sound was mantelled by the clamorous proceedings of the ceremony. "Jesus _fucking_ Christ—you did _not_."

"What—what's going on?" she demanded hesitantly.

"You drugged yourself, that's what's going on," I clarified through gritted teeth.

Her lips slightly trembled and she shook her head. "_No_—no I didn't," she refused in a slightly hysteric way.

"I should've known," I contemplated in a sceptical tone. "What did you take?"

"I didn't—" she began but my glare was quick to make her rephrase her words. "Just a tranquiliser—I—I would've puked right in front of the whole—" she broke off when her last word became incomprehensible.

"You're drooling," I asserted as she began rubbing her mouth with the back of her hand. "Did you over-dose?"

"No, they were in my prescription," she lied as I took out a tissue from my pocket and wiped her jaw.

"You don't have a prescription, Claire, not since six months ago," I apprised. "I know you think you're so smart and coming up with solutions but how did that clever little brain of yours plan on proceeding through the rest of the event? Especially, when I think you might be aware of the fact that you are required to walk up that platform," I instructed, indicating the whole path with my eyes. "And receive your diploma. Oh, and _fun fact_, you're supposed to do it without slobbering like a wet seal."

Her face went blank and then acquired a terrified guise as her eyes trailed upwards. "You're seeing the flying retriever too, right?" she demanded, her mouth dropping to her feet.

I rubbed my forehead with my fingertips, my shut eye lids shaking with impatience and disbelief.

_"Help me_," she squeaked, supporting her head with her hand like it would fall off anytime.

"What do you want me to do? Take you out?" Her perplexed sight forced me to reshape my sentence. "The assassin way," I added.

"That's not comforting," she slurred.

I exhaled deeply and removed the locks of her hair from the side of her neck. "Close your eyes then."

**Claire's P.O.V:-**

The first thing my mind registered, before I even opened my eyes, was the familiar smell of air-freshener muddled with cigarette smoke that already painted a clear enough picture of my surrounding in my brain.

I peeked at the driver's seat of Killua's car through my eyelashes, only to find it unoccupied. My head felt incredibly heavy as I lifted it up and opened the door.

I pulled at the lapels of the ugly graduation gown around me as a chilly night breeze made me tremble. "Where are we?" I mumbled, walking towards Killua, who was perched on the bonnet with a cigartte in his hand.

"Away," he answered simply and in his voice, it somehow seemed such a glorious word.

After a few intricate seconds, my addled mind processed the cluster of lights thrown out below us. It almost seemed as if it was a mirror, reflecting every star symetrically. "Our place," I identified, my gaze swiping through the dark hill.

"I like that," he remarked, still looking right ahead.

A small smile made its way to my lips. "Why here?" I asked as he helped me sit next to him on the hood.

"Well, why not?" he countered, tapping the back of the cigarette with his thumb. The dying ashes that fell seemed to be quoting something beyond literal. "You know, I was thinking," he revealed. "They should have categories, like a—sort of _spectrum_: dumb, stupid, idiotic, insane, _Claire_," he listed casually.

I rolled my eyes. "Did you knock me out?"

He threw the cigarette away and lied against the windshield with his arms crossed behind his neck. "Absolutely."

"Okay, what's our alibi?" I demanded.

"You fainted and you're in the infirmary."

"Well, I could've _pretended _to have passed out, there was no need to go all _ninja_ on me; and why am I _not_ in the infirmary?"

"_Firstly_, I don't think you were aware of it, but there were very inhumane noises coming out of your throat, you know like those growling puppies? So, I think that marked away the chances of you delivering a good act. _Secondly_, if you really _were_ in the infirmary, you'd be in big trouble, since it's not that hard to identify a stoned psycho anymore," he explicated. "And _thirdly_, you're welcome."

"Did I really miss my graduation?" I debriefed, idly passing a hand through his hair.

"Technically, _no_." He raised his wrist and glanced at his watch before speaking further. "It's only been ten minutes since I drove you away so, we still have about half an hour before the actual thing ends; but you did miss the chance of getting a diploma and shaking a hoardy man's hand."

I leaned my head back, but before my head made contact with the surface, he wedged his arm inbetween.

"It's not as comfortable as it looks," he informed subtly.

I could only answer with silence. It was so hard to decribe emotions when he was nearby.

"I have a question," he announced as I scooted past his elbow.

"Fire away," I invited.

"Who was that wise man you quoted that last speech paragraph from?" he debriefed, his voice saturated with smugness.

"I should've known you would _never _that one slide, and _for the record_, I wasn't totally conscious of my words," I defended.

He remained silent for a minute as he was taking in my words."Speaking of that, the whole thing was pretty—" he halted, choosing the appropriate word. "_Amazing_," he concluded with a shrug.

I just stared at him before nervously passing a hand through my hair. "I—I just had to summarise everything I learned in the past year," I confessed with a sigh. "And most of it—was from you— even though you're the living represenatation of an asshole," I appendaged on seeing the way his eyebrows were shooting up.

"I didn't know you looked up to me that much," he bragged, ignoring my last addition. "I mean, I know I'm marvellous and everything but—"

I put my palm on his mouth before he could continue further. "There are so many better things that mouth can be used for," I stated before freezing in place as I realised what I had actually said.

He removed my hand and didn't even attempt to hide his shameless grin. "I did not see that coming from you."

"It's only as dirty as your mind," I replied, failing to appear unaffected.

He rolled his eyes and pulled out his cell-phone. "_Anyway_," he emphasised, tapping multiple times on the screen before holding it up. "Check this out. You can look at your stupid constellations without stressing your little mind."

I took it from him and scrolled through the content and sat up abruptly. "You downloaded a star-gazing app." I stared at him in amazement.

"Yeah." He shrugged. "You're crazy about this stuff."

"Yeah, but you _hate_ it," I reminded.

"_So_?" he asked in confusion like his opinion was the least of his concerns.

It took me several seconds before I could close my speechless mouth and hand him back his phone. "Can I have a concession?"

He arched an eyebrow. "For what?"

"Tonight—_right now_," I resolved, taking his arm and forcing him to shift into a sitting position.

"What?" he demanded, muddled.

"Even though I wasn't really looking forward to it, tonight was supposed to be a _big_ deal for me— I pretty much fucked it up—but I do want to have something to remember it by," I explicated, lifting up on my knees to level with him. "I know I'm basically stepping on everything I said last time but, forget this," I exhorted before leaning in and locking my lips with his. I must've caught him so off guard, he reflexively caught my arms and held me tighter and unlike the last time such a situation took place, he answered back and so passionately, I had to break off to catch my breath but I immediately pulled him back in as soon as I could make sense of my actions.

I didn't even know how he did it, but without pulling away, he slid off the bonnet and lowered me to stand in the middle of his legs.

Right then, my God damned mobile began buzzing in my pocket, but right now it was honestly the last thing on my mind.

"Your phone," he notified as he drew back, pulling it out for me.

"Throw it away," I ordered, gripping at his shirt and tilting his head back down.

"It's your mom, she's gonna be worried," he convinced separating our mouths once again.

With my mind gradually clearing, I processed his words and gave up with a sigh. "Uh—yeah," I agreed, taking my mobile from him and rubbing my face in embarrassment.

He surveyed my expression intricately until he eventually drew closer and delivered one final peck on my lips.

I just gaped at him dumbfounded.

"_What_? It's my graduation too," he prompted. "We're supposed to forget this, right?" He asked, taking a step back.

I blinked, not being able to recall how to use my vocal apparatus. "Yeah—yes—this _never _happened," I assured, trying to bury the sudden lump in throat.

"Good," he replied as he walked towards the driver's seat.

"Great," I fortified, clearing my throat.

"Yeah," he added with the sound of a door shutting.

"_Yeah_," I concluded with the depth of my heart sinking, and somehow it felt like he had slammed a door in my face again.

* * *

"Who ever has even _thought_ of running away from their graduation?" my mom interrogated as she finished the last touches with my hair.

"I didn't _run away_," I objected looking up from my phone, shifting my legs on the couch.

"Then where were you?" she challenged, sneakily moving forward until she over-shadowed me.

I considered my answer several times before coming up with shit. "_Away_," I replied simply.

She sighed. "Sit straight, you'll get a crease on that dress, and I am considering introducing _grounding_ as a thing in this house," she warned as she picked up a perky Katie from her baby seat.

"Let it go mom," I advised as I gently traced Katie's bald little head and held out my finger which she caught with no hinderance. "It was a _whole _day ago."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "_Honestly_, I wish Karen would've stayed a little longer, I don't know how to deal with two stubborn girls by myself," she voiced as Katie now extended her tiny hand out to me.

I rolled my eyes as I stood up and took the baby from her arms, joundicing in her frilly little shift. "I bet my diploma nonna can't stay away for more than two months."

Katie made her usual move of putting her palm on my cheek and staring straight into my eyes. It was somehow always so penetrating, like she was extracting all my thoughts or trying to convey something. It was something very complex coming from a tiny little thing that couldn't even keep her head straight without leaning on my shoulder.

"You both _are_ adorable," she boasted, ogling at us. "You look beautiful," she complimented me as she marveled the dress.

I glanced down at myself, unable to deny that Mr. Domoto did go all out in picking me a dress for his wedding; it was so opulent, it gave off the impression that I wasn't just a guest but was opposing candidate to the bride herself.

With my free hand, I pulled at the strapless garment, constantly haunted by the thought that it would fall off anytime. Its silvery bodice acquired a delicate white shade as it extended down my waist, parting right at my knee and falling down gracefully around me.

"I can't believe Minoru's getting married," she vented in an emotional voice like she was referring to her third child.

I rolled my eyes for the second time in thirty seconds but little did I know that weeping and drama was the _core_ of weddings. I had to constantly hide my face in embarrassment during my mom's _actual_ crying fits, echoing in the church, when the vows were being taken.

Mr. Domoto himself looked like he was about to choke on his bow tie or most probably, he had just forgotten to breathe. I almost squalled in relief when the main proceeding was over and retreated to a table in the corner of the garden outside the church where the all the decorations had been spread out stupendously.

It was all so delicately enchanting, I seemed to be forgetting my own esse as I keenly watched the numerous shadows shifting back and forth with the music before my eyes, but when my gaze fell upon one particular silver-haired figure casually perched on a seat barely ten steps away from mine, I could recall everything regarding me a little too well.

I hadn't yet decided whether we were pretending not to know each other or ignoring each other's presence or— the way he was now staring at me made me even forget my name, muchless decide a working strategy.

"I'd say you've changed, but that would be a _major_ understatement," remarked an unfamiliarly subtle voice from my side, catching me by surprise.

I shifted my eyes and caught sight of the towering guy in front of me. "Do I _know _you?" I murmured squinting at him.

He arched an eyebrow and looked at me with incredulity. "Only since you were ten," he answered wittily.

His words made me sctruntinise him with more caution, reverting my full attention from Killua to him, and only then did I realise how attractive the swarthy boy with the familiar green eyes was. My mouth almost fell to my feet. "_Caden_?"

"_Finally_," he exhaled, seating himself next to me.

"How—why are you here?" I debriefed in amazement.

He cast me a look of complete disbelief. "You're right, that _is _a genuine question, considering it's _my_ uncle's wedding," he emphasised.

"_Well, well_," I stressed oggling at him. "I _was_ kind of hoping boarding school kicked that smug little shit out of your ass, yet here you are," I mused, leaning my chin on my palm.

"Speak for yourself," he countered with an interested expression. "Over-loaded bitchiness and let's not even mention the—" he added raking me from head to toe with a low whistle. "If I knew you'd get this hot, I would've actually paid you some attention."

I could only gape at him with disbelief before I managed to recompose my face. "Shallow as a puddle," I complimented. "That's _gotta_ be a new record."

He chuckled, positioning his arms on the table with an ammused guise. "Everyone's shallow," he revealed. "I just don't hide it, and besides, you're the one who had an _extreme _crush on me back then."

I scoffed and risked a peek at Killua who wasn't just staring, but he was fully glaring. I tried to push back the gloating sensation that was making its way to my brain. "Yeah, I also made mud pies and ate dirt back then, _so_..." I shrugged.

His eyes widened with heed. "_Impressive_," he commented with feeling. "I admit to your sarcastic superiority."

"Who said I was being sarcastic?" I retorted, still spying at Killua with furtive eye movements.

He pursed his lips and his eyebrows shot up. "I like pretty girls with clever mouths," he admitted blatantly after a moment's survey. "How about you tell me more, _over a dance_?" he invited proficiently.

"How _brilliant_," I assessed. "But, I don't dance—_with idiots_," I added to cover up my stupid inability.

"_Really_? _Or _is it because you still have the walking grace of a penguin? Because I _still _remember the time you fell in the sandbox—and the time you tripped on my cat and the time—" he was literally counting on his fingers.

"_Okay_, okay; I get it, you don't have Alzheimer's, _amazing_," I interrupted hastily. "I _really_ hoped the atmospheric pressure of Shiroi killed you, but I guess wishes really don't come true."

He laughed a beguiling laugh and his cocky smile revealed a dimple that somehow enhanced his features even more. "Why? Because I'm the living breathing witness of your demeaning childhood?"

I cast him a sceptical look. "_Yeah_, so I can't make any promises about not wanting to take you out with a shovel and dump you in my trunk."

"Rest assured, my mouth is sealed," he relieved. "Puberty has done you more than just justice, more like the whole law."

I frowned at him. "Is it just the men I know, or is this having shit as an excuse for humour a gender thing?" I voiced out, regressing my scrutiny back to the blue-eyed figure in the back. The task was difficult because I had to pretend to look elsewhere while looking at him as I knew from experience that he had more than just a sharp gaze, and the riotous part was that he was doing that same thing. The hardiness with which his hand was gripping at the table's edge was more than enough evidence for my theory.

"Wh—what?" I asked disoriented as a waving hand blocked my vision line.

"What are you looking at?" Caden asked anomalously as he turned back to see the source of my distraction.

"_Nothing_—" I divulged, reflexively shifting his face back with my hand. "Nothing—uh—hey, is— the offer for that dance still up?" I blurted out coming up with the most stupid fucking entice I could put myself in.

His eyes broadened with surprise at my unexpected approach. "Absolutely."

"_Great_," I mumbled forcing a smile and struggling to keep my voice devoid of a sarcastic tone.

I grasped his extended hand, and had barely stood up, grabbing the hems of my dress to avoid a disturbing fall, when Killua's startling figure almost made me fall backwards prior to his swift save as he clasped my wrist and held me straight.

"Killua, _what the_—" I demanded as soon as my windpipe allowed me an intake of breath.

"I'll take it from here," he cut off forthwith, releasing my other hand and intertwining our fingers.

I stared at him for a moment, simply quivering my lips as a response to his intricate manoeuvre at pretending that the figure next to me didn't even exist. "Can I have _just _five minutes?" I requested, turning to Caden, whose face was a mixture between confusion and another edge I failed to identify as he gazed at Killua.

He diverted his sight to me and blinked once, looking alternatively at the two of us. "Of course."

I sighed and shook my head, pressing my fingertips to my forehead. "Thanks."

I briefly considered stepping on Killua's shoes as he lead me forward but gave up on the idea when I saw the elusive look on his face as offered me his free hand.

I glared at him as I took it and he placed his other gently around my waist. "How _smooth_," I commented, putting my hand on his shoulder. "_Tell me_, on a scale of one to your balls are about to burst, how jealous are you?"

He scoffed, expertly conducting me sideways. "_Who_ am I supposed to be jealous of?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why are you even here?"

"Believe it or not, I was invited," he expounded. "_Apparently_, your neighbour took a liking in me after the whole hospital charade." His tone as unenthusiastic as if what he did that night wasn't even worth being mentioned. "And I found it rude not to show up."

"Because you're _always so_ polite," I exaggerated, rolling my eyes. "And _not_ barging in, especially inbetween people."

"It's not called barging in," he ammended, lightly pushing me back and spinning me around once before readjusting to our previous position. "This is intervening."

"Intervening?" I repeated, attempting to anticipate the crap he would be coming up with.

"Yeah," he affirmed with an obvious expression. "You have to be cautious about people, like that guy." He gestured with his eyes towards Caden who was clearly surveying us from the table I had left him at.

"_Okay_," I emphasised with my eyebrows raised. "What is it about him that should be worrying me?" I asked in a preliminary manner.

"_Well_," he commenced, swaying me to a side, so I could see his indication. "Look at his posture for instance."

"What's wrong with it?" I questioned, actually focusing on his dictate.

"It's _slouched_, you know what that means?" he probed tentatively.

"Probably that he has a backbone?" I interjected.

"No," he refused immediately. "There's a potential chance that guy is a drug addict, you don't want to have anything to do with a drug addict, do you?"

I suppressed a smile as I examined the seriousness that was dominating his features as he spoke. "I don't know," I contemplated, casting a long and intense look at the subject of our discussion. "I think I can deal with that—I mean, look at him," I mused. "That's the kind of hot you don't let go over some minor flaws—I'd be okay with it even if he was into tap dancing, muchless drugs."

Killua's irises contracted as he focused on my words. "He's not _hot_," he rejected without consideration. "I don't understand what you're seeing in him, or exactly _what_ you're looking at," he added with a sharper assessment.

"I'm not oggling at his ass," I assured him, feigning a resolute guise. "Although that _does _sound like a very worthy use of time," I apendaged, holding his shoulder blade tighter.

"_Ah_, suddenly you're into ass-ogling," he observed as he lowered both his hands to my waist and twirled my fingure until his lips were an inch away from the back of my ear. "And you choose _that _over what I mantel."

"So, I'm getting a choice now?" I debriefed, taking his hand again and placing my palm over his ribs.

"It was—more of a friendly advice," he quickly reshaped his sentence.

"_And_ suddenly we're friends now?" I questioned further.

"Well, according to your suggestion," he reminded with a tug at his lips.

"There was actually a more appropriate time I made that suggestion," I prompted, casting a glance down at my feet to make sure I wasn't about to step on his. "Right now, you saying this makes you sound like those women who get pregnant and keep stressing on the fact that they're either the next virgin Mary or it must've been something from the pool."

His eyelids fluttered as he tried to hold back a chuckle. "Actually, I reflected on the matter," he revealed, mantaining a rhythm between our motion. "And came to the realise that we were always—_friends_." He shrugged. The way he said the word was proof enough for the honesty of his declaration.

"We were never friends," I spurned with a scowl. "We're either at each other's throats or in each other's—" I abruptly came to an interlude when I processed what I was about to say.

"Hearts?" he finished for me. "I believe that's what you were about to say?" he probed just as he separated our hands, dropping one of his down to my thigh just as he pulled me closer with a jerky movement and neatly dipped me back; I immediately interlocked my fingers around his neck for support and couldn't help but forget how to breathe registering the minute distance at which his face was from mine.

"It doesn't really matter," I replied hesitantly as he yanked me back up, deciding not to alter the position of my hands regardless of how hard the task was because of his height.

"It does, it matters to me," he affirmed, piercing my gaze with his and that small instant was so baring as it flashed every single moment before me—it was as if the trivialness I had felt myself sink in the previous night, after his touch—after his words, was all revived with a demolishing intensity.

"Killua—stop," I broke off breathlessly suddenly feeling very helpless.

His expression converted instantly on processing my voice. "Claire, are you—"

"_No_," I terminated immediately. "I—I can't do this anymore." My hands reflexively dropped to my sides before he caught them as if he was preventing me from shattering right there. "Killua, I'm _so_ tired—of everything. Every time that I think I've managed to open a door to you, it just seems to lead to another corridor and—it's _draining_ me. Not having you _hurts_ but having just a part of you hurts even more."

"If it was something I said—" he objected hesitantly.

"It's not what you say and it's not what you do—it's what you feel and who you are, and both of these things stand in such a great opposition to each other that it's poisonous. Killua you're _sinking_," I confessed feeling my voice break. "And I don't want to go down with you, because if I do stay, you'll sink faster and I'd rather you get a chance to resurface—and because I don't want this—I _shouldn't_ want this. I wanna have a purpose, I wanna have plans. I wanna go to college and feel independent and—see Katie grow and be there for her and take care of my mom and—these are the things that should matter to me." I paused to catch my breath. "I've spent so much time chasing you, I think I forgot that I _do_ exist without you—I _can_ exist without you and I might be a bitch at times but I sure as _hell _don't deserve this toxic lifestyle I'm settling into, especially when it isn't leading anywhere," I recognised as I sensed the first tear trail down my cheek.

He reflexively wiped it away with the back of his fingers, his face crumpled with the struggle of keeping composure. "Please—"

I shook my head, silencing him as I breathed out a weak laugh. "You know, it might be him," I acknowledged indicating towards Caden, who appeared not to have moved an inch. "Or it might be another guy—or there might not be a guy; thing is, I'm gonna start being fair to myself." The quietude that followed was so loud, it seemed to be darting between our minds in the form of all the words we never had the courage to say and all the words we never should've brought to our lips. "Killua, I really—" I paused to select the right term. "—care for you, _so much_. If we continue this tug of war, one of us is going to end up getting hurt beyond repair and I'd rather that be me, because I can _never _stand to see you get take more wounds than you already have—that's why—_I'm_ letting you go, because if there is _one _person in this world who deserves to be happy, that's _you_. No more sacrifices, not from you."

His eyes blinked gradually at me as the ghost of what I had just said settled into his figure.

"You are—the _best _thing that has _ever_ happened to me, but you can't make up your mind and this is— _torture_," I concluded in a grave tone as I took in a deep breath, pressing my fingertips to my eyes in order to avoid the mascara from spreading out. "I hope you find everything that you're looking for," I wished squeezing his hands. "Have a _great_ life, Killua." I rose to my tiptoes and gently pressed my lips to his cheek, marking the apparent end of our chapter.

* * *

The sun seemed indecisive between setting and staying as I sat on my doorstep, trying to get the sight before me to make any sense. It was as if it was all there but not and clear but blurred at the same time.

I never knew decisions were this onerous until I at last put myself in the position to make one, and suddenly, double-standars didn't seem like such a wrong thing after all. The black and white had vanished just as soon as I picked a side and left room for only grey and it's tormenting shades.

"So, you _finally_ got kicked out?" asked a wonted voice, stratling me out of my dilemma.

I was so accustomed to having Killua around whenever I felt myself sink, that when Caden's relatively taller figure was registered by my brain, it automatically sent down a collapsing impulse of what I desperately refused to call disappointment. "Uh—no, I'm just—waiting for my mom," I answered, in a tone that resembled anything but an alive person's.

His face acquired a foreign expression as he processed my reply. "_Well, _in case one of us has some perceptual defect, you should know, that wasn't a serious question."

I exhaled, feigning something that barely passed for a laugh. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm—here to see my uncle— your neighbour, who lives next door," he added with an unconvincing shrug.

I passed a hand through my hair and looked up at him. "You're here to see your uncle, my neighbour, who lives next door _and_ happens not to be in this continent as of yesterday," I enlightened. "Now unless there's some sort of international portal in his house, what you just came up with was one shit of an excuse."

He pursed his lips, raising both of his hands up in defeat. "How about we rewind and pretend I actually said something very concrete and then skip to the part where you scoot over?"

I jerked, lifting a corner of my mouth up in what I hoped was a cogent smile and obliged. "I'm not complaning."

"You're quiet," he observed as he perched down next to me.

"I don't— really talk much," I revelaled, nervously rubbing my neck.

"No," he rejected with a shake of his head. "I meant your—" he paused, gesturing around me with his hands. "Presence is quiet."

"My _presence_ is quiet?" I repeated, slightly amused.

"Yeah, there was—like the aura of a fire ball around you yesterday, it's been out after—that silver-haired guy."

I quietly cleared my throat, struggling to appear unaffected by his reference. "I—feel pretty normal."

"Is he your boyfriend?" he debriefed, and the question I was dreading yet expecting sprung up.

"What? _No_—no, _no_—no," I denied like an idiot and the peculiar little ogle that he addressed me with made me understand very well just how high I had scored on my lying game. I sighed, leaning my chin on my knee. "We dated— it didn't work out." The summary was so vague, it almost seemed like a lie. As if everything that Killua and I went through was simple enough to be defined in six words.

"Is that why you were upset?" he questioned, meeting my gaze directly. "Did he—?"

"What? No," I clarified immediately. "We—ended things a while ago, he just wanted to—talk."

He remained so quiet, it somehow tensed me up. "Who was the bad guy?" he asked, casting me an incredibly penetrating look.

"The—_bad guy_?" I demanded in confusion, leaning slightly back to have a clear look of his expression.

"Yeah," he accorded with a gentle tug of his mouth. "Isn't there always one? The one who screws it all up, the villain?"

"That's a very strong word," I mused, trying to comprehend his implication through his eyes.

"Well, it's real," he stressed with no delay. "There's always someone who drains the other, and always someone who ends up wasting too much of themselves over a person who never deserved it." Not only his words, but the empty gaze that occupied his eyes was proof enough of the untold stories that echoed through his statement.

"Circumstances," I uttered, bringing him back to awareness.

"What?" he debriefed in incomprehension.

"You asked who the bad guy was— circumstances," I clarified with a shrug. "It's not always a person, sometimes the background of the picture is not as vivid as the display."

He shook his head. "It's the whole that counts, in the end what matters is _how, _not why."

"Not everyone perceives the same way; I like to think what I'm thinking is right, because otherwise there are thoughts I don't have the stamina to deal with," I let slip carelessly.

He looked at me wordlessly, before he dropped his intertwined hands to his side, as if what I had just said lifted a kind of weight from him. "I didn't come to see my uncle," he changed the subject with a facetious tone.

I peeked up at him and then rolled my eyes. "You don't say."

"I came for you," he disclosed lightly but the way he spoke had me jerking my head towards him before I could help it.

I prayed so hard in that moment not to categorise the intensity of his gaze and the tenor of his voice as something real, but it was there, and he was staring at me like _that_. I briefly considered not highlighting it and simply burrying his confession with a joke but whatever I was trying to voice, just wasn't co-operating. "_Caden_—" I enounced, unable to come up with anything else. "This—this isn't a good idea."

His eyes didn't shift, but his position did as he faced me completely. "Why not?" His guise wasn't challenging, just willing to understand and that shot a sudden wave of hatred at me, because I considered that I might have somehow given him the wrong impression. "Is it because of—do you need time?"

My throat suddenly felt a bit too tight. "What? No—it's not—it's not anyone," I stammered, feeling incapable of making sense. "It's _me_."

"What about you?" he inquested, occupying all the air around me in a way.

"You—you don't know me—you don't know _anything_ about me," I rationalised trepidatiously.

"That can be changed," he assured undismayed.

"Caden, you're not—I'm not _one_ layer," I confessed eventually, almost unaware of the frantic motion of my hands as I helplessly tried to explain. "I'm like a thousand stupid pieces put together with God knows what—I mean, do I always talk like I've got my life together? Yes—_yes_, I do; but my idiotic, witty mouth isn't going to get me any where and honestly even I don't know the first things about myself—like right now, I swear I can't tell you what I'd want for dinner," I prechified with my usual, incomparable wisdom.

The horribly suppressed titter that slipped his throat made me more than just sure that what I had intended to sound very consequential had come out to sound like nothing but a badly written bed time story.

I groaned and pressed my fingers to my temples, struggling to keep composure.

"Your indecision about a meal is concerning you this much?" he questioned with an equivocal expression.

"Yeah, yes—yes it is, because it's just food today but—it only gets worse, okay?"

"Like what?" he tried with an arched eyebrow.

"I don't—I don't know, _guns_? Like I said, I'm not reliable, trust me," I postulated in defeat.

He rubbed his neck, his struggling semblance at keeping a serious face made me want strangle one of us. "You're not one layer," he mused, recalling my previous wording.

"Yeah, I'm not," I accenuated, crossing my arms before me.

"Well, that's the best part," he asserted, all the humour completely gone from his voice.

I shifted my head to clearly meet his gaze. "You don't understand."

"I do," he objected heedlessly. "And I want to pare through," he informed subtly and before I could even process his words, he had leaned in, his lips now pressed against mine.

It wasn't the suddenness of his action or even the disbelief that clouded me as I reflexively pushed him off; it was the abrupt and drowning emptiness that had burst through every vein of my body at his touch. It took me a while to register the unevenness of my breath and the moisture on my face. "I—I'm sorry," I choked out as I saw the startled expression on his face.

I stepped back before even making a conscious decision to do so. "I'm— sorry," I breathed, the syllables cracking in my throat. "_Sorry_," I pleaded one last time before pelting away in no particular direction, only, I wasn't sure who the final supplication was directed to.

**Killua's P.O.V:-**

With an extreme and firm conviction, I finally unfastened my seat belt and pushed the door open. My hand was impatient yet at the same time hesitant as it lingered on my cell phone, that was drowned deep in my pocket.

I mustered the strength to pull it out as I paced gradually down her street, with every single word that she had spoken, clearly settled in my mind like an untamed wave that supplied the rush to the current circulation of my blood.

Prior to the slanding to my thoughts in the rival direction, I quickly dialed the digits on the screen and held my mobile against my ear, my heart accelerating with every beep until the call was directed to her inbox.

Somehow, knowing that I would be addressing her indirectly made me feel more relieved than I wanted to admit.

_"Coward."_

Her antecedent accusation shot me so abruptly, my whole body tensed up as it had been hustled forward. "You were right," I blurted out in the receiver before I realised I had said it out loud. I immediately cleared my throat and drew in a calming breath. "I mean, you weren't completely wrong," I ammended quickly, almost feeling her presence.

_"You ruined me, Killua."_

The next affliction had me biting down my lower lip with its severity. "I was wrong," I fortified, feeling incapable of saying more. "And I broke you while trying to protect you, I didn't want that—you were right, I've been running like a coward, I've been running from you, because—" I broke off as I knew how baring the next turn would be. "Because I'm scared to tell you that I need you—and I want you and I want to mend you, redeem myself this time."

_"You're okay with hurting both of us over and over, and what's all this even for?"_

I couldn't tell whether it was my body or the ground that was trembling, but I kept going nonetheless. "My wrong decisions hurt you, I've been darting blindly between what is right and what feels right—without realising that what I _feel _is right."

_"Every time that I think I've managed to open a door to you, it just seems to lead to another corridor and__—__it's draining me. Not having you hurts but having just a part of you hurts even more."_

With every step that I took forward, every emotion that I had been struggling to bury came descending nearer and nearer. "It was never a corridor—it was a loop, leading straight back to you," I admitted, as I sauntered on the pavement.

_"You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, but you can't make up your mind and this is torture." _

"There was no choice, Claire. I could never choose, because it _always_ you—and I'm tired of running away from you, because it's as realistic as escaping from myself. I'm giving up—on this absurd chase." Every word I spoke seemed to be removing a certain weight from my body like parts of an armour dropping to my feet one by one, as I was barely a stride away from her house. "You're hoping I find everything I'm looking for, that's you—_you're everything_," I professed with a sigh. "Because, Claire, I—" I froze just as I was about to add the last segment to my revelation on seeing the sight before me.

Unexpectedly, she was seated on her doorstep with the boy from the previous day perched next to her. I felt my jaw harden reflexively on detecting the almost inexistent distance between them. Her hands were moving so anxiously, I could tell she was deeply concentrated in trying to either prove a point or make sense of something she herself didn't understand.

I was so lost in observing their exchange that I barely paid attention to any word they spoke but it was when she suddenly went silently motionless that I felt the blood drain from every part of my body, because right there before me, he drew in and ended the range that separated them.

Every ounce of feeling in my body evacuated out in that very second and I couldn't seem to recall where I was standing and why.

_You lost her._

I wasn't aware of when or how, but I found my numb form dragging me back in a purposeless direction. Everything below and above me was somehow completely out of sight.

_You lost her._

The sinking feeling that was radiating from my chest to my palms, made it's way up to my throat as my freezing hand clasped my hair on its own. The rupturing sound that registered in my mind, made me cognize the fact that the cell phone that I had been clasping between my fingers just an instant ago was now nothing but uneven fragments that fell from my hand like an aimless cascade, taking with it all those unspoken words that she would never hear.

_You lost her._

The tips of my fingers held on to the hood of the car for support, the ground seemed to be hollow all of a sudden. Involuntarily, I found myself considering what the outcome would have been if I had just arrived a few moments before; the thought jolted and immediate blow through my veins and my fist automatically penetrated the window glass, throwing back an intolerable emptiness at every part of my skin.

_She's gone. She's gone. She's gone._

"Killua?" addressed an extricating voice from my side.

I whirled my head towards it before making a conscious decision to do so, unraveling the sight of Claire's fragile figure gazing at me with an unnatural glisten that reflected from her eyes. It was a few seconds later that they trailed down and widened, processing something I had somehow missed.

"_Oh God_," she breathed out weakly. "Are you—you're _bleeding_." She whimpered and I became aware of the fresh tears streaming down her cheeks as I followed the path of her stare and acknowledged that my entire wrist was giving rise to the crimson fluid that flowed uncontrollably down to my fingertips.

"_You're bleeding_," she choked out again before wincing back and struggling with her uneven breathing. "You, _just_—" Her laboured inhaled were loud enough to mantel every other sound around us. With a firm intake of air, she loomed her hand towards me and firmly grabbed my arm.

I couldn't comprehend her action and my mind barely registered that I was letting myself being lead by her with no restraint.

She hauled me near the porch of her house, making way to her car and quickly threw the door of the driver's seat open; pulling me down in a sitting position, she dug out a first aid kit with her trembling hands and fumbled through it hysterically.

It wasn't hard to see that she was trying to avoid looking at my wound. I could only stare at her face as she managed to pull out a shard of glass from my skin, sobbing constantly.

Every few seconds, she would turn away and exhale forcefully; the slight prick of the antiseptic and its pungent smell were hardly even processed by my consciousness.

She displaced the items in the box and cursed through her teeth before turning to look at me, her eyes were hollow. "Rip it off," she said, lifting up a part of her shirt.

"_What_?" I asked vacantly.

"I'm out of bandages, rip this off," she ordered, her eyes shut tight in an effort to maintain composure.

When several moments passed and I just kept motionlessly staring at her, the look in her eyes darkened with inconceivable wrath. "_Killua, tear the fucking shirt_!" she bellowed, her hands clasping her head.

My gaze didn't leave hers even for a second as I grabbed a handful of her clothing and swiftly shred it off, handing her the patch.

She furiously wiped her eyes as she wrapped it around my hand, tying the ends loosely with her shaking hands, she drew back and leaned against the car frame. She looked thoroughly exhausted, her eyes shut tightly with moisture constantly trailing down her visage.

The shaky silence was so heavy, I could feel the sky closing in on me. I couldn't bring any of my muscles to move and comfort her.

"_Please_," she pleaded with a raspy voice. "Killua, please—_please don't._" She swallowed, running out of breath. "I'll do anything— please, just _don't hurt yourself_."

The muteness that her supplication had bestowed on me had yet just stricken when she clasped her hands before me.

As my senses registered the motion, I became aware of what she was doing: she was _begging_ before me.

"I—nothing matters—whatever I said, just _please_," she cried out helplessly. "Not you, I can't take it, please—_don't_."

My insensate hands approached hers and lowered them; never before I had felt so powerless, so poisonous. But it wasn't her tears that made me realise just how grave a mistake I was close to making mere moments ago when I was about to give in to her, it was the last words that she spoke to me that night, and I knew I could never forget them or forgive myself as long as I lived:

"_Hurt me_—I can't bear it with you— I'm sorry."she whispered like a prayer and I couldn't believe I was the one who had regarded her as selfish. "Not you—not you. _You're everything_."

**3 months later:-**

The night had an unusual light breeze accompanied by the familiar cold. It was as if the wind was whispering scattered thoughts out to the unknown.

I walked down the street with my hands in my pockets as I listened to the chime of the air and passed by the lights of the city when it was nothing short of alive.

It was her town and every fragment of it was somehow valuable. I breathed the same air she did, dwelled under the same sky and from time to time, moments that would never be enough, I would catch glimpses of her.

She had described it well, torture was what we were both sentenced to and destiny hadn't been kind to either one of us, the poison I was granted with was the sacrifice that drained my soul of feeling. But every existence was short and even though mine was now devoid of life, it would eventually expire and so would every regret of mine.

"—so you think having an extension between your legs is good enough excuse to call _you_ _a_ _man_?" I heard an exceptionally familiar and loud voice come from behind me.

I forthwith turned to spot Claire leaning out from the window of her car, her whole figure perched as if she was ready to jump out any moment; in front of her was a parked truck and, I supposed it's driver, standing just a few feet away.

I stood fixated at my place as I registered the occurring event, unable to categorise it as a reality. In the name of intellect and credence for everything logical, I even attempted to pinch myself but in vain, she was still there and as material and concrete as she'd been at the first glance.

"I'm gonna take out those pathetic jokes for eyes that you have and shove them up your ass!" she bellowed, her face tight. I didn't seem to catch the man's reply.

I couldn't help the way my jaw twitched at her words. For the smallest of instants, I considered the idea of a look alike or the fact that I was hallucinating her since she was what occupied the majority of my thoughts. A few blinks and eye rubs assured me that this was not a mirage.

Focusing once more on the scene before me I watched the anonymous man retort, holding his middle finger up as he strode towards her.

I became aware of the few people that stood nearby and were marvelling the happening with great interest as I paced quickly ahead.

"_Oh look_, you _can_ walk straight, considering the twelve toes that prevent you from hitting the brakes on time," she commented without a single trace of fear.

"—I'm gonna shut that" his hand went right to her collar before I seized his wrist. He turned to me slightly perplexed.

"I dare you to touch her and leave with your fingers intact." My voice came out lower than I intended. "All twelve of them," I added, slightly louder. If fate actually expected me to believe in this risible occurrence, then humor seemed like an appropriate addition.

He gazed at me and then at her before he raised his hands in surrender and drew back. "She started it man."

"_I_ started it?" she interjected. "What about you captain _cheaper by the dozen_?"

His eyes darted towards her, holding an unmistakable scowl but eventually he just shook his head and strode in the opposite direction.

I sighed and shrugged as I watched him walk away with his shoulders slouched forward then spun around to face her, three months gone and I never thought I would have the courage to confront her, yet here she was.

She blinked at me, her mouth slightly open and then shook her head as if she was trying to gather some sense in it.

"Claire?" Her name rolled so easily off my tongue, as if it was the only thing I was meant to say.

"Yeah?" She raised her eyebrows in amusement.

"Are you high?" I tested.

"What? No." She scoffed like it was the most absurd hypothesis in existence.

I exhaled and put my hands back inside my pockets. "Jesus Christ," I muttered. "You have a death wish, then?"

She pursed her lips. "I can smack pretty well."

"Sure." I rolled my eyes. "Just be careful enough to get your bones back in one piece."

"They're not all invincible assassins," she countered.

I peered at her speechlessly. One by one, I could suddenly see all the alterations that had appeared on her face, her body, her presence: The new feline look in her eyes, dark, smoky and intense; the way her short hair framed the outline of her visage and fell silkily by her neck and how she hung her mouth in a slightly different manner now. It was as if she was more comfortable in her skin now and every string that held her back before had somehow seized to exist— evaporated. I could only make a mere and faded connection between her and the girl I knew. I wondered where I had lost sight of her and where she had modified every detail that I held on to for so long.

"Done with your love fest?" She debriefed with her elbow leaned against the door.

"W-what?"

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "If you wanna ogle at me so bad, at least get in." She gestured towards the passenger seat.

I couldn't hold back the laughter that escaped my lips. "Impressive," I remarked. "What is this magic? Steroids?"

She snorted and a corner of her mouth lifted up. "I'll tell you over some ice cream," she invited.

I raised an eyebrow. "Tempting." She unlocked the car as I crossed to the other side and got in.

She started the engine, her eyebrows quirked up playfully.

I leaned across her body and grabbed the abandoned seatbelt before fastening it around her. "Fucking reckless."

When I straightened back up, I saw her gaze at me with a blank expression.

"Are you growing a beard?" She asked tracing my jaw with her finger.

I bit the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from reacting to her touch. "No, are you?"

She rolled her eyes and positioned her hands around the steering wheel. "So, how are you?" She spoke so easily in contrast to the last time she had attempted to utter those words.

* * *

"_For fuck's sake slow down_!" I roared with one hand clutching at the handle and the other holding the ice cream cups we had just gotten from the mini-mart that Claire was dashing ahead from.

Since she had pulled out half an hour ago, she had nearly crashed the car twice and barked insults out to the other drivers all the way. She pretended not to have heard me. "And I got myself registered and everything," she continued from where she had broken off, ignoring my pleads. "My psychiatrist says I should start something like knitting classes because I need to control my anger, I told her I rarely lose my temper anymore and she mocked me; can you _believe _her?"

Just one look at her and I knew she was sincere in her disbelief. "Right," I muttered.

"And Katie makes all these noises, like choking crows but she's pretty cute too."

I felt a smile form on my face. "Can't we just stop driving? Let's walk?" I suggested.

In the matter of seconds, she pulled over, barely missing a streetlight. "_Geez_, don't wet my seat, Killua."

We both got out and ripped off the seals of the containers. I could see the streetlights leading towards the local park; the gates were fully swung open and there was a clear sight of the enormous fountain that occupied its center.

She went into an easy pace down the sidewalk and I followed suit. Sauntering over her steps, it was hard to deny the indescribable and arcane connection that I always felt with her.

The light fell on a section of her hair, giving it a maroon glow as it fluttered lightly. "You've changed," I voiced out before making a conscious decision to do so.

She cocked her head at me. "In a good way?" she asked through a mouthful of ice cream.

I grinned at her. I could've sworn she would have started with a negative perspective. "Depends," I considered. "If common people would refer to boozing around town with half an ass flanked over and ready to piss out insults as an improvement."

She rolled her eyes at me. "I'm not boozed."

"Of course not." We ate in silence, strolling forward in the misty night.

"Well, you're pretty much the same," she observed after a while.

"In a bad way?"

"Depends," she imitated. "If shit remained consistent in its properties, would common people regard it as an enhancement?"

I scoffed and moved closer to her, tucking a strand of lose hair behind her ear.

She froze immediately.

"What have you really been up to?" I whispered in her ear.

Her shoulders relaxed and she huffed.

"Like you wouldn't know." Her tone was casual.

"What?"

"Come on now, I might not have eyes on my ass but it isn't all that hard to spot a silver haired asshole snooping on you throughout the galaxy."

I pursed my lips and looked away. "Actually, trouble is strongly attracted to that eyeless ass of yours; I'm just watching over you."

She sighed. "Yeah, it's not like you care for me or wanna be near me or anything."

I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the sudden weight on my chest. "Get real. Three months, Claire and you keep disappearing." My tone was accusative, as if I had some right over her.

For a few minutes, she refused to answer, stopping by a dustbin, she threw off the wrappers and then stretched her arms. "I promised I would help you out and it wasn't supposed to be a piece of cake."

I stared at her in disbelief. "Tell me you're not—"

"Shut your face, Killua. I'm not getting into anything risky."

"_Right_ and I'm taking _your word _for it," I retorted with a glare.

She sighed and tilted her head. "Trust me."

I arched an eyebrow at her. "I don't trust anything that bleeds for a week and survives."

Her face went blank all of a sudden and she burst out laughing so loud, it seemed to be booming throughout the block.

I could only look at her. I had never seen her express herself so easily and comfortably.

After a few seconds she evened her breathing. There were actual tears in her eyes, I found it hard to believe. "I got an internship at my dad's office," she revealed in a weak voice, trying to compose her expression

"What? _Why_?"

She bit her lip and met my eyes. "I went through some of his old documents, he lead the surveillance team for the last auction, remember?"

"Yes, so?"

"I figured they might hire the same agency this time because the systems were all set very tactically."

"They did?"

"Yeah," she confirmed. "I sort of got through to one of my dad's old coworkers and obtained some pretty handy info."

"Like what?"

"Like the whole security plan, where the cameras are positioned, the whole floor by floor analysis etc. etc. and we already have the digital blueprints so..."

"And they gave it all away to you because you're an internee?" I debriefed in a dubious manner.

She rolled her eyes. "Killua, I hacked through the systems, this is not an installment of spider man, my ass had to do a lot of work for you."

"Your ass has earned my respect," I mused.

She grinned at me. "I'll send you the files."

"Okay."

She passed a hand through her hair and sauntered forward.

"I thought you were going to let me in on the secret of this new liberation," I reminded.

"You really wanna know?" she baited in a frisky tone.

"Try me."

She exhaled deeply and turned to face me. "You're something I can't have and I don't know how to become something you'd want," she confessed with a sad smile.

I stopped breathing the moment she completed her words.

"And that's the part of my life that I can't alter, but I'm not gonna miss out on anything else, not anymore— I'm gonna shout and I'm gonna say stupid things and I'm gonna cut off my hair as many times as I want," she admitted, her fingers tangling through her strands as her voice got tighter. "Seize the moment, right? And you know what? _I don't care_. I don't _fucking _care. I know I'm selfish and I'm not that big of a recreant to be afraid to admit it. I think for myself and I think about myself and there you go— that's my biggest flaw," she chuckled breathlessly. "I might not be a very good person, but I'm not a very bad one either, _okay_? I'm not here to rant on about my miseries because no one cares and because I deserved exactly what I got. I'm human, I'm only eighteen and I'm finding myself." Her breath slightly hitched and she paused to swallow hard. "You're _it_ for me Killua, it's never gonna be real with anyone else, but I'm not gonna beg for you. Whatever is out there for me, I'll cope, this is good, everything's fine."

I couldn't describe the deep hole that I felt in my body. Her voice slashed a cut through my chest that oozed of unbearable pain. "You know why I have to stay away from you, if I could—"

"Shut the fuck up," she interrupted immediately. "This is hard enough as it is, don't say words that make me want things that I can't have—"

I caught her in an embrace before she had time to react. Everything about her was so miraculously divine: her scent, her breath, the sweet fragrance of her hair. "You're everything," I breathed, holding her tighter.

Her whole body trembled under my touch.

Mustering all my will, I drew back but not before planting a firm kiss on her cheek, careful not to shift because I knew that we'd both be done for if I moved just an inch.

I watched her blink furiously and stare constantly upward as she struggled to hold her tears back.

I saw the stars in her eyes that night, immersed in a sea of longing and agony; that was how I knew and couldn't deny any further to myself just how much I loved her. Maybe I would never get the chance to tell her that, but she was the only one I had eyes for, and it might've not mattered if our life proceeded in the same painful flow but what I didn't know was that destiny would reach out eventually and we didn't have merely this moment but maybe an infinite more.

_The arcane infinity holds no more secrets than the soul,_

_for it could be a mere moment or the frost and its cold._


	24. Fortuitous

I am baaack. Sorry for the ridiculously long delay and I have honestly no explanation for it but I'm pretty sure you're not here to read that even if I had one.

Briefly putting it, what gave me the motivation to complete this chapter was the awesome review that _twilightfreak9075_ left, thank you so much for that! My back has been killing me for the past three days and I am exhausted but your words hustled me to overcome my laziness and do justice to my readers. I am very grateful to you, you have been my driving force and I am honoured that you feel that way about this story.

Guys, I've read your PMs and reviews _and_ I know I haven't replied but I swear I will, I am just—going insane with a lot of stuff in my life right now. I am infinitely sorry for that, I will get back to you, pinky promise. Thank you so so much for your feedback and your love and I just really want to Koala hug each and every one of you beautiful people.

The next chapter, aka, the last chapter of this arc is about halfway done and I think you're going to enjoy it because it's action packed and two certain annoying teenagers might be—_wait_, no spoilers, gotta shut myself up. This is the first chapter that is completely written from Killua's P.O.V, like one hundred percent and you'll get to see just how pesky and moody this new version of Claire is. Cue to the one reader who said that my chapters are bonus english lessons, I laughed way too hard at that and felt a bit smug for some reason, do I have the right?

Also, Touch It by Ariana Grande kind of fits with the theme of Killua and Claire's relationship and Drive by Halsey because I'm realising that most of their conversations take place in a car. Give them a listen if you like. Dig in, let's check out this emotional earthquake.

Chapter: 24

* * *

**"Fortuitous."**

* * *

The inky folds of the night cast themselves on the unsure surface of the water as she ran her fingers through it, catching a few stars here and there on her skin. I breathed in the murk of our surroundings, watching her indecisive figure settled at the edge of the fountain, her eyes distant miles away.

She hadn't spoken a single word since we had walked in through the gates of the local park. Her earlier firmness seemed to have faded like smoke, leaving room for only the silence that weighed in the air.

"Ready to go?" I sued, standing up and keeping track of each one of her blinks.

She didn't answer, instead her gaze broke away from the emptiness clouding her irises and darted to me, until it trailed lower and lingered on my hand.

I followed the path of her eyes before I spotted the dull little pink line that coursed from my wrist to the intersection of my thumb. Immediately, I hid my hands in my pockets; mantelling away the angry mark left where the shards of glass had penetrated a little deeper.

The surge of humiliation that spread in my bones on meeting her sight again, made me feel an intolerable discomfort. I didn't know whether I was imagining it or not, but I could see a heavy accusation settled in her eyes.

She reverted her attention back to the dancing ripples on the water at the tip of her fingers.

"That night—" I commenced, my guilt outpowered me easily as I struggled with words. "That is the one moment of my life that I wish I could do over—"

"You know," she interrupted me, rendering me mute with her piercing look. "When I was at the orphanage, there was this child that cried every night." Her narration of an abandoned an untold chapter of her life drained my mind of thoughts. She never said anything related to the time prior to her adoption, I hadn't even heard her say the word '_orphanage_' more than once. "_Every night_," she repeated with more stress. "And just hearing it—it made me want to—it was so—_horrible_." The glisten on the surface of her eyes was become more prominent with every word she spoke and her glassy gaze materialised all the unspoken stories that she had kept in. "That was why I detested the night—the dark, it was the cue for that—scream; there was nothing worse. _I just wanted it to end_."

The crack in her voice as she uttered the end of her sentence made me flinch reflexively.

"It was a few nights laters that I found out that it was me," she revealed breathlessly. "_I _was the one who kept screaming—it _did_ get worse—because it made me want to end _myself_." Her confession trembled of helplessness as she braced her arms around herself. "_That's_ how I felt that night—that's how it felt watching you bleed."

I speechlessly kept gazing at the hollow mist in her eyes, the way her hand shook uncontrollably as she lifted it up and furiously rubbed her eyelids. "Never again," she seethed through her teeth, her arms dropping to her sides, sporting her clenched fists. "I'm never giving _anyone_ the power to make me feel like that again; no one—_not even you_," she notified, turning her gaze to me at last.

I could only stare as she rose from the cemented spiral and walked towards me. She barely reached my shoulders, but her presence seemed to be towering mine all of a sudden. "_So_, if _I _could do that night over," she emphasised my previous words, her irises almost merging with the air around me. "I would've _never_ let myself cry—_never_ let myself feel that weak because of you and I would've _never_ let you render me as helpless as you did."

For just one moment she drew so close, I almost closed my eyes, expecting her to end the distance between our lips. In the next instant the back of her hand connected with the side of my face, my head slightly tilted with the impact of the slap that she delivered.

"This is _my_ do-over," she informed before I even recovered from her action. "And the next time you touch me Killua, is when you've made up your mind and you're ready to stand by your own decisions, _get it_?"

With these words spoken, she sauntered forward towards the obscure pathway, that lead nowhere but away from me; the echo of her declaration still fresh in my mind.

But she kept shifting—everything about her seemed to do. It was as if she had found a frame, but couldn't exactly trim herself enough to fit into it. I could put a firmer finger on this deviation as I attempted to park outside a coffee shop on a Friday afternoon and nearly ran into a wildly speeding car that missed me by an inch and sweeped away the spot.

I countered with a prolonged sound of the horn until a delicate hand stuck out from the window, holding a finger clear in the air.

My eyebrows shot up on registering the gesture as I lowered the glass. "Are you fucking with me?" I called out.

A tuft of maroon hair popped out from the front as Claire craned her neck back to cast a glance at me. "No, I have standards."

I rolled my eyes and pressed my hand to my forehead, to be honest, I wasn't even surprised. Before I could make a remark of my own, my cell phone buzzed in my hand, displaying her id on the screen.

"Don't you have anything better to do than stalk me?" her voice demanded immediately as I brought the phone to my ear after accepting the call.

"Yes, because you're such a joy, aren't you?" I retorted sarcastically.

"Yeah, well it's really unhealthy to be _this _obsessed with a person," she explained and I watched her emerge out of her car, shut the door with her boot, and tread towards me, phone still against her ear.

"So impressive, God you're sly," I commented further in an emotionless tone, holding her gaze.

"Let me guess, you have a binocular somewhere in there, don't you?" She bent down near my window, leveling our sights.

I rolled my eyes. "No, it's actually a _monocular_," I corrected. "And it's right between my—"

She mimicked my eyeroll and smacked my shoulder. "I refuse to believe that this is a coincidence."

"Why? Because we live in a city that's the size of a continent? Or is it because—" I halted immediately, grasping the situation. "Did Gon ask you here?" I guessed on point.

Her eyebrows shot up slightly at my assertion. "How do you—_oh_," she conjectured, her expression changing into one of disbelief. We kept looking at each other for a minute before she sighed and shook her head. "What's dumber? The fact that Gon came up with this shitty cliche to make us show up at the same place or that we actually fell for it?"

I nodded with my lips pursed in irritation as I rubbed my jaw with my thumb. "Dick-face told me there was an emergency."

Her guise altered into one of utter amusement on registering my words. "Well, he told me there were new boots at the mall," she revealed with a shrug. "My fist is really tingly now, he's not gonna show up, is he?"

I shot her a look. "No, and keep that a mile away from my face," I warned, gesturing towards her hand. "I know that your hands are suddenly in love with my cheekbones, but most romance ends in tragedy."

She held her mouth to a side and her eyebrows shot up at my words in an annoyed manner. "That is _the_ stupidest thing that I have ever heard and be _real, _you deserved it—I don't exactly have a retort to that shit right now because I'm starving so, how about we continue this super productive conversation with the addition of food in our hands?"

"That's an original way to actually ask someone out," I observed leaning my elbow against the door. "What's the guideline? Whack a person on the face and invite them to lunch?" I debriefed with a sceptical glance.

A corner of her mouth lifted up. "Yeah, kick in the balls and we can have a kid together, or actually not since that would kind of deprive them of their..." she considered. "You know what? I'm hungry, I can't think with low blood-sugar."

"_Wow_," I opined with yet another eye roll while listening to her rant and the same remark escaped me once more, and with actual feeling this time a few minutes later as I watched Claire swallow down an entire hamburger in one go.

She looked up at me in question and I involuntarily shifted back in my chair while clearing my throat. "Nothing," I dismissed, and diverted my gaze to an empty table at the coffee shop we were sitting in.

"Are you gonna eat that?" she asked through a mouthful of food, pointing at packet of fries in front of me.

"Yes," I said looking at her. "I told you that five seconds ago," I reminded.

"Yeah, but what about now?" she interrogated further.

I surveyed her intricately as I slid it towards her. "Just—take it."

"Thanks," she mumbled, absorbed in chewing ferociously.

After a long silent stare, I finally sighed and crossed my arms around my chest. "_Okay_, what's wrong?"

Her eyes darted up to me and she grimaced. "What do you mean? I'm just hungry, I can't remember the last time I ate."

"Why? I don't recall you running the cycle of birth throughout the universe."

"I was up all night last night with Isawa," she revealed, barely looking at anything but the meal.

I simply responded with an eyebrow raise.

"—syncing the security with the blueprints," she appendaged, casting me a brief glimpse. "_Oh God_, you're honestly so cheap."

"Like you're the definition of divinity," I muttered, picking at the side of my sandwich with my fingers. "I never asked you to strain yourself," I added, suppressing my sudden irritation.

"I'm not doing any of this to please you," she reassured, grabbing the chips out of the bag and stuffing them in her mouth.

I kept quietly peering at her for a few more minutes before she met my gaze. "_What?_"

"You only eat three at a time when you're nervous, pissed or on your period," I informed, indicating at the food in her hand.

She paused to meet my gaze and slowly raised her eyebrows. "How do you know I don't have my period?"

"It's the end of the month and—" I halted mid sentence on realising what I was saying. "You don't— look like a zombie," I covered up unsuccessfully.

She began coughing all of a sudden and grabbed a napkin to hide her expression. "Well, you sure do your research well," she asserted with a small laugh. "Do you also know my shaving routine?"

"Shut your mouth," I countered, trying to avoid looking at her directly as she kept trying to suppress her laughter. I sighed when her struggle didn't seem to be ending any time soon. "Listen, I've got somewhere to be," I notified, getting up as I took out my wallet and placed a bill on the table. "You finish eating."

"Where are you going?" she demanded, reverting her attention to me completely.

"I had something to do, Gon's text sort of got me off schedule," I apprised taking out my cell phone.

"What?" she questioned further.

I squinted at her. "It's just some work."

She kept staring at me silently until she pushed the meal aside and stood up. "I'm coming with you," she decided.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Why?"

"Because I said so."

"Claire, I'm not going off to some strip club," I enlightened, putting my hand in my pocket and withdrawing the keys of my car.

"I don't care, I'm coming," she pressed unabashed.

Just one good look at her fiery gaze and I knew there was no reasoning with her. "Well," I said, feeling my jaw twitch. "Glad we negotiated that."

She waved at me dismissively with the back of her hand and walked ahead. "Do you want me to drive?"

"Only when cancer doesn't sound like a better option," I declared, throwing my car keys upwards just a millisecond before she tried to snatch them and seizing them neatly with my other hand.

"Show off," she regarded on observing my reflexive feat.

"Suck it up," I shot back and we kept exchanging insults until we were seated in my car.

"Fucking asshole," she marked while accidentally knocking down my cell-phone from the dashboard as she attempted another one of her gestures. "Sorr—"

We both instantly ducked to retrieve it and bumped foreheads in the process. "_Ow_."

"_Stop being perky_," I seethed through gritted teeth as I jerked upwards.

"What, I'm not—" she commenced and in the process, her elbow missed my forehead by an inch.

I drew back and glared at her. "_Gosh_, you remind me of those annoying, tiny blue dwarfs with the white hats."

"What?"

"The ones from that shitty movie you made me watch," I clarified.

"The _smurfs_?" she tried, her expression mutating. "You told me you liked it."

"Yeah, well I was trying to get you to go out with me back then," I conceded with further explanation.

Her mouth opened slightly on registering my words. "You shallow bastard—" she paused and gritted her teeth. "I sat through that shit because you _actually _looked interested."

"In you or the movie?" I conjectured with a brief laugh.

"_Oh jesus_," she sulked with a sigh before her gaze darted back to me. "_Okay_," she speculated further. "Since we're being totally honest all of a sudden, let me confess that I _did _spill nail-polish on your deadpool figurine," she unraveled with a shrug.

I pursed my lips at her. "I liked you a little better three seconds ago when you weren't being honest—or talking," I appendaged.

"That's fine, actually. Your whole orbit does keep switching every instant anyway," she remarked, cocking her head to a side.

"You're implying?"

"Killua, you have more mood swings than I do when I've got my period, is that enough of an explanation?"

"New deal, no being honest with each other now," I proposed.

"Okay, you're a very charming young man," she acceded as a corner of her mouth lifted up. "Emphasis on _charming_ and _young_—and _man_," she added.

"But not as much as you are pleasant company," I regarded, holding my hand up.

She rolled her eyes. "Just—where are we going?"

"_You're_ going home and _I'm_ going out of town," I informed as I fastened my seatbelt.

Her head jolted in my direction and she gave me a prolonged look. "Come on, we need to peruse through those files—and discuss things."

"We can do that later, problem solved," I spurned as I started the car.

Her lips parted with the effort of further reflection. "I—I can help you with whatever you're doing, you know I'm smart."

"And humble," I adjoined with a sceptical smile.

"You could need me," she nudged suggestively. "Besides, I'm a _fun _car-ride partner."

"Yeah and moreover, cancer's not fatal."

"_Killua_."

"_Claire_," I replied with the same balmy tone as I met her gaze. "_Okay_," I gave in at last after studying her expression. "But only because you could be useful to me," I clarified as I pulled out.

"Could I now?" she indicated, leaning her head against the seat.

"Surprisingly, _yes_."

"Why? You need somebody to help you embrace the fact that you have an ugly voice and should _stop_ singing along with the radio?" she submitted, passing her fingers through the tips of her hair.

"_Hilarious_, I can barely contain my laughter," I commented dully. "And no, actually there's this girl—" I commenced as I took the first turn, but my mobile shifted from the dash and I paused to put it back in its previous position.

Her head snapped in my direction the exact second I spoke the incomplete word. "_Oh_," she mused in a weak tone, and I failed to understand her defeated reaction.

But before I could even inquire, she repeated her previous statement but saturated with badly suppressed anger this time. "So, you're allowed to date?" She burst out all of a sudden as I registered her enraged expression.

"What? Where the—"

"_You're allowed to date_," she reverted, stressing on each word. "—while, a guy barely kisses me, and all of a sudden, you receive the permit to go on busting your fucking fist through car windows?" She bellowed.

"How does that even—"

"_Save it_." She held her palm in front of my face. "You know what, you insensitive bastard? _I don't even care._ I should've God damned known, you guys are all worthless pieces of shit anyway."

I stared at her. "Are you done?"

"No," she immediately retorted. "Be happy, actually _fuck you_, go ahead and just—" she paused mid sentence and just groaned as she held her head. "I hate you, I can't believe I actually thought you—you guys are just fucking looking for somewhere to stick your—is this the kind of help you wanted from me?" she started off towards a new direction. "Tell you ways to win her over? Walk up to her and tell her just how _amazing_ you are?"

I held my hand to my forehead, knowing that this wouldn't be ending anytime soon.

"Well, just let me tell you that you're not even—you're a _lousy _kisser," she proclaimed. "—a _stupid_ kisser, it _sucks_ to kiss you," she concluded fuming.

I gaped at her in disbelief. "I'm a lousy kisser?" I demanded in non-comprehension. "Is _that _why you practically _glued_ your face to mine in that bathroom like there was no tomorrow?"

Her eyes twitched and her guise altered. "_Ah_, of course you were going to boast about that," she answered back with a grimace. "You cheap retard."

I heaved a sigh and shook my head. "Will you let me complete the fucking sentence?" I finally raged out. "I was talking about the girl who gave us information about Isawa."

She blinked at me wordlessly as she processed my words."The girl who—?" she echoed in a frail manner. "Oh, in that case, you're not that bad," she reverted with a shrug.

"Fuck," I commented, biting back a grin. "I wish I caught that on camera."

She casted me a glance with the corner of her eye. "Why? Because you need one more thing to gloat about?"

"No," I rejected with a crooked smile as I met her gaze. "Because beside that shouting, you look incredibly hot when you're jealous."

"I wasn't _jealous_."

"_Of course_, and you also happen to be an _excellent_ driver—just saying," I further completed, raising my hands in surrender when she focused an intense glare in my direction. "But just so we're clear, how jealous were you Claire?"

"Fuck you."

"No, is it like—what was that scale you invented? From one to your balls were about to burst, where did your jealousy lie? Or do girls even have balls?" I continued, glancing occasionally at the road.

"Yes, we do, and they're a lot bigger than yours," she confirmed, craning her neck to look at me. "And I suggest if you want to keep yours intact, you better shut up before this hands aims slightly lower than your cheekbones, and that'll be a _real _tragedy, where you end up sterile," she enlightened with the most eldritch tone I had ever heard.

"What have my genitals ever done to you?" I questioned, rolling my eyes.

"Nothing," she replied briskly. "_Nothing at all_." The way she spaced the pronunciation of each word, her redolent manner of speaking and the small smile that she attempted to hide as she gradually shook her head had me laughing so hard, I could hardly bring myself to stop.

"What are you doing?" she asked as she watched me grab my phone and quickly tap on the screen with my thumb.

"Making a note," I revealed. "A reminder to get you a pair of horns for Halloween, please promise me you'll dress up as Satan."

I was expecting a caustic remark but instead, she bit her lip with her two front teeth and just stared at me. "You're not going to be here on Halloween," she reminded. "You're leaving Monday, remember?" The way she made this statement was clearly forlorn, but it was the last line she spoke that had me meeting her gaze as a reflex. "This weekend is all I have with you."

* * *

"Okay wait, here's another one," I convinced Claire as I attempted to recount multiple jokes while we were parked outside an apartment complex about an hour later.

She clasped her palm on her forehead and groaned. "_Oh God_."

"A guy comes home from work and his wife asks him why he came in early," I began, steadying my posture. "And he _says_ that his boss told him to go to _hell_," I choked out, struggling to complete the sentence.

She cast me a long glance as she chewed on her thumb. "_Wow_."

"Did you get it?" I confirmed, turning towards her. "The guy actually says—" I attempted to explain with my hands.

"Oh, no, I got it," she assured while nodding. "It's just—_not funny_."

"Come on, it's _really_ funny," I reasoned, finally losing my collectedness and chortling uncontrollably.

On studying my reaction she shook her head, resisting the grin that ultimately formed on her face before she covered it with her hands and vibrated with silent laughter. "The only thing that's funny about your jokes Killua, is the way _you_ laugh at them," she guaranteed, forcing to keep her tone serious.

I exaggeratedly rolled my eyes an exact three hundred and sixty degrees at her, before recommencing my practice. "I also have another one—"

"Fuck—no, no, no—_NO_," she forbade immediately. "No more Killua jokes, _please_."

I pursed my lips and shrugged, trying to think of yet another topic of conversation before she saturated the air with the same quietude that she had acquired throughout the rest of the journey. In all honesty, I had always found deviation to be a good distraction from my thoughts and I wasn't going to give up on that now.

"Remind me again why we've been waiting outside these building for like fifteen minutes now?" she debriefed, checking the time.

"I told you," I apprised, leaning my head back against the seat. "We're paying a visit to that girl who lead us to Isawa."

"Why? Is she like your _personal_ agent or something?"

I pretended not to have heard the implication she dropped heavily on the word 'personal'. "Oh, no. She's more like a communal individual..." I trailed off in search of the proper term. "She's more of a snitch, on a professional level."

"A snitch, on a professional level?" she repeated as if she was trying out the words in her mouth.

"Yeah, when you take money for giving out info on people, it's basically your job, isn't it?" I rationalised as I took out my cell from my pocket.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"And out of all the people we've pried from, paid and practically dragged our asses around for, she was the sole person that gave us a good lead."

"Oh," she mused. "And, how did you pay her?"

My sight darted to her in my periphery as I saw the firm stare that she was addressing me with. "Come on," I pleaded, facing her directly. "Do I look like a fuck boy to you?"

She didn't answer, instead just raised her eyebrows slightly as a response.

I sighed as I slouched my shoulders. "Okay, well in my defense, people either want money or sex and she had her priorities very straight."

"If she did give you what you asked, why the hell are you here?" she at last directed, crossing her legs on the seat.

"Do we really have to have this conversation now?" I demanded absent-mindedly. "I've got all three bananas on arcade mode," I informed as I swiftly swiped on my screen. "Okay, _hey_—" I complained as she snatched it from my hands. "She didn't give me everything," I unraveled while glaring at her. "That's how they do these business deals, they keep something to themselves to either have you coming back or have some sort of hold on you."

Her lips slightly parted at this assertion. "And that's dawning upon you like—_now_?" she questioned, pointing below her.

I clicked my tongue. "Of course I knew, it's just that I had found a good enough steer from what we yielded and the girl could've been useful to us—in the future," I attached, "now I couldn't go ahead and risk it all, you've got to be in good terms with these kind of people, they are in a very beneficial position."

"And you had this _ingenious_ backup plan in mind for over a year now?"

I sighed while aiming to recover my mobile from her. "It was sort of in the _back_ of my mind," I emphasised. "Didn't really _hit_ until this morning; I woke up and my intuition guided me here for some reason."

She blinked at me twice and then bent her leg as she out her elbow on her knee as she held it back. "Even if she has kept something from you, what use is it going to be? We're infiltrating an intelligence agency to get information about Gon's dad, does that even count for something?" she demanded, slightly exasperated.

"That's the thing, we have no guarantee that there will be something useful to us in there; I like to either have at least a ninety percent on something or a plan B."

"You are _unbelievable_," she concluded while shaking her head. "Tell me something," she additionally redirected.

"What?"

"You're not exactly paying an informed visit, are you?"

"That depends on what you mean by _informed_," I jested as I aimed again but instead she caught my hand and gave me her typical look. "Okay, _no_."

"Then, how—" she began indecisively, "you're going to use the same old threatening method, right? I mean—how are you so sure that she's going to tell you the truth?" Her free hand was darting wildly as she tried to explain her theory.

"Fear _always_ works," I contended while trying to understand her motive. "What are you saying?"

"Well, I was thinking about this when you were—_negotiating_ with Isawa," she disclosed, adjusting her position once again.

"That's a clear example, isn't it? I got him to spill the beans by scaring the shit out of him."

She shook her head once more at my assertion. "That's the thing, he was being honest with you even before you mentioned your last name," she reminded. "I think that your— _interviewees_ have an advantage on you, you naturally expect them to be sincere out of fear."

I raised an eyebrow at her choice of words and couldn't help but sit erect. "So, you're saying I should carry a lie detector around?"

"You don't need a lie detector when you have—" she halted as if she wasn't sure of her words.

"When I have what?" I probed.

She looked down at her hand and it occurred to me that she was still holding mine. "You—you can manipulate electricity, right?" she finally voiced out with a guarded expression.

I stared back at her silently. "How do you know?"

"The streetlights started _blinking_ when you got angry, you basically dashed off before me _glowing_ like Zeus, and got a stuck elevator door to open as soon as your palm touched the control board—it's not just a lucky guess," she assured, her gaze firm and not open for any argument.

"What are you up to?" I questioned, trying to extract some of her thoughts through her eyes.

"_Well_," she highlighted. "You use these powers to enhance your physical abilities, like speed, don't you? And there is something either inside or around your body that you _transmute _into electricity."

I gaped at her, dumbfounded by her accurate wording.

She took my answerless gawk as a confirmation and continued. "Considering any of these two possibilities, your _body _is the conductor both ways."

I lowered my gaze slightly as I modified my position; it was very prominent what she was implying by this. "I have high tolerance for pain," I guaranteed.

"Tolerance doesn't mean immunity, Killua," she replied in a reluctant manner and I saw clear commiseration dwell in her eyes as they met mine.

My jaw tightened promptly at her reaction and I forcefully withdrew my hand from her hold, because since I could remember, there was _nothing_ that I detested more than pity for myself in someone's sight. "Is there something else you're getting to or was this the whole fruit of this conversation?" My voice came out more aggressive than I intended and she winced at my retaliation.

"That—_no_," she barricaded, shifting her body a bit back and making me regret my impulsive action. "I actually just had a really random thought," she justified,"— you know that neurons are also activated by electric impulses," she ventured, maintaining the distance.

I let my posture relax and adapted a softer tone. "Yes, and I already know you're suggesting firing up my reflexes; been there, done that."

Her stance followed my example and she appeared relatively calmer. "I guessed as much, but have you ever considered using your abilities _psychologically_?" she stipulated, grasping my attention once more.

"What do you mean?" I inquired unable to comprehend her assertion.

"Are you familiar with ECT—electroconvulsive therapy?"

"No, what is it?"

"I came to know about it when I was taking my sessions with Natasha," she divulged, and I felt her guard loosen. "It's a kind of treatment where a mild electric impulse is allotted to the brain to produce a slight seizure—it's mostly used on people showing suicidal symptoms or, you know, severe mental illnesses," she proceeded, making indications with her hand as if there was some vital point I was missing.

"You want me to work for the welfare of humanity?" I mocked, tilting my head.

She shut her eyes for an instant, clearly irritated. "It's like—" she crossed her two fingers and then untangled them swiftly as a practical example. "It flips the nerves or something—I think it _temporarily_ relaxes them."

"A jolt of electricity relaxes the nerves?" I repeated with scepticism heavily loaded in my voice.

"Not in that way—it leaves people in a state of daydreaming, you know, like—a bit disoriented? It causes changes in tha brain's chemistry for fuck's sake," she bleated at last.

"Like injecting someone with a truth serum," I visualised as I caught her theory.

She nodded vehemently. "Just faster and—with you twenty-four seven as a part of your—" she stopped to pick a suitable term. "—whatever that thing of yours is."

"_Okay_," I stated in a confused manner.

"And, I mean—it's not like a hundred percent guaranteed effect everytime and with every person, but it could also be useful when you want to sort of—_stun_ a person without knocking them out—? I mean, I don't know what help that'd be but—" She shrugged apologetically. "And you could get a person stoned by just—" She demonstated the rest of the action by flipping her hands.

I surveyed her supposition as I scratched my hair.

"Don't make that face," she complained, glaring at me.

"What face?"

"That _Killua _face—if you think it's stupid, just say it; it was just a hypothesis anyway."

"Okay, _first off_, I forbid you from using my name like it's disease from now on," I rejected, focusing on her, "and _secondly_, I was just evaluating it, it's actually pretty smart," I countered polemically.

"Good," she replied in the exact same instant as if she was just waiting for my consensus, "can I?" she demanded permission this time, her hands reaching for mine.

I tossed her an incredulous sight. "Why the formality?" I questioned, intertwining our fingers.

But she separated them and brought her arms back towards her."Because you scare the shit out of me sometimes," she confessed as she lead my hands to her head.

"I'm sorry, _what_ are you doing?" I averted, unable to understand her purpose.

"Try it on me," she dictated, position my fingertips on her temples.

My eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"The ECT—just put your thumbs on my scalp and try it," she guided while my mouth almost fell open at her suggestion.

"What _the fuck_?" I revised in loud disbelief.

"_Come on_," she stressed as if she was just considering a change in her diet. "It should be pretty basic for _you_, just make sure the impulse is gentle."

My eyelids fluttered as she spoke and I realised that she was actually serious. "Are you in your senses Claire?" I checked as I pulled back from her and studied her expression.

"What? It's done all the time, it's really not as dangerous at all," she argued, shaking her head in dismay.

I tilted my head slightly lower so that we were perfectly at each other's eye-level and then stared at her so that she understood just how absurd her proposition was. "Let me get this straight," I sketched as I made a clear indication with my hand, "you want me to _zap_ you."

"—it's an electric stimul—" she pressed in between.

"_Shut up_," I ordered at once and she was quick in registering the magnitude of my anger. "You're here telling me that this is a commonly practiced procedure that is in _no way _risky, having _zero_ side-effects—"

"—just disorientation... and memory-loss, but it's all temporary—" she inter

jected in justification.

I nodded at this new piece of information. "—_and_ furthermore you are expecting me to believe that this little technique, that is _no way _controversial of course, is carried out with _no_ mandatory precautions."

"Just general anesthesia but it's not compul—"

"_Wow_," I concluded with a clap. "Amazing suggestion, _brilliant_," I complimented in the most deriding tone I could manage. "Just one last question, why in the name of Jesus _fucking_ Christ would I test this out on you?" I bayed as she retreated farther away. "_Wait_," I breathed as I finally caught the edge in her expression. "How did this entire idea even occur to you in the first place?"

Her lips were pursed as she became aware of the direction of this conversation now. "I told you, it was a random thought."

"Couldn't get your hands on sedatives this time, so this is what you thought of?" I predicted easily.

Her eyes widened at this and she turned to me. "Stop it."

"You can go ahead and fuck and pretend with someone who doesn't know you, but I do," I alerted. "And this better end here; control yourself before this gets out of hand."

"I didn't do _anything_," she denied, blinking furiously.

"I warned you at graduation," I reminded her. "You don't want this to go to Hana, do you?" I further added and her gaze darted to mine instantly as if she couldn't believe just what I had said out loud.

"No," she accenuated, her guise saturated with reluctancy.

"Good, _are we clear_?"

"_Yes_." And that abolished the strain that seemed to fill the air.

"_Face _your problems instead of trying to run away from them," I emphasised, boring my gaze into hers and she looked away. "_Now_, what's wrong?" I demanded, settling on my seat.

"Nothing, I told you, _nothing is wrong_," she insisted, now on the borderline of exploding.

I cast her a long and intense look but she didn't budge. "Come here." I beckoned.

"No, _Killua no_—" she protested as I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her closer. "What are you doing you space invading bastard—" she kept struggling, by aiming her elbows at me until her resolve broke and she let out a moan. "What—what are you doing to me?" she asked in a trembling voice as I rubbed her shoulders and felt her melt before me.

"Does that feel good?" I confirmed as I kept massaging lower.

"No," she fired back immediately. "Yes," she appendaged soon after as she exhaled a deeply. "I hate you," she breathed in a weak tone. "You've got jesus hair," she blurted out as I continued.

I suppressed a snort at her remark. "Your posture is tense," I informed as I grasped her arms.

"_Oh, God_," she sighed and started emitting noises that ultimately drove me insane.

I released her before we'd both get fucked up and she craned her neck in my direction. "You know when I said everything was fine?" she recalled gradually. "I lied."

"_You don't say_," I stated, rolling my eyes.

"You know, I just registered for my college classes and—it's time for me to move out, right? I mean, I'm _eighteen_," she justified, her timber almost fading by the end of the sentence. "But everytime I think about going and signing the lease of the apartment I got, my mom—_she just_—" her voice broke and she shielded her face with her hands while attempting to control her breath. "—she starts crying, _hysterically_," she annexed, speaking the word like it was poisonous. "And, I tell her—it's barely an hour away and I wouldn't have considered _ever_ leaving if she didn't have Katie and my nonna's not here anymore and I don't know what my dad would tell me and I know it's hard adjusting— but I feel like if I stay, I'll be stuck in that pattern forever and I'm going to—but just thinking about leaving, it makes me feel guilty, am I—am I being selfish again?" she inquired, watching me with the kind of defeat in her eyes that I never wished to see again.

I raised my palm as she pressed hers against mine, and intertwining our fingers I brought my lips to her fingertips. "Your mom wants this and your dad would've wanted that, while your nonna could want something else and then who knows what Katie wants." I shrugged dismissively, "—but what do _you_ want?" I probed slowly.

"I want to _live _my life," she answered with no hesitation.

"Then what is the problem here?" I mused silently.

"I'm just—_so confused_."

I kissed her hand twice before pulling her closer until her ear was inches away from my lips. "Claire, you've got wings," I informed her in a whisper, "don't you dare clip them."

She drew back and shfted to face me directly, exposing the stunned look on her face. "You say something like that," she adduced, "and expect me not to kiss you?"

I gave her surprised stare at this. "Just take back what you said at last night, I know fountains make you emotional," I satirised, grasping her hand tighter.

"Make up your mind Killua, you know not one of us wants to _just_ talk right now," she shot back while passing a hand through the hair covering my forehead.

"I've got _incredible_ self-control," I pronounced as I tried to keep my mind clear.

"And I'm very stubborn," she prompted, _actually _withdrawing to her seat and leaving me wanting to smash the windshield into pieces.

"_Good_," I complimented through gritted teeth.

"Fine," she retorted firmly. "And I got the last word," she finalised just as I opened my mouth again and I took it as a clear cue of her ferocious self being back in business.

I glared down at my phone just to appear unaffected but froze when I actually saw the time. "Fuck," I muttered while unfastening my seat-belt.

"What?" she debriefed.

"I've gotta go, I won't be long. Just—" I commenced while surveying the front compartment of the car. "Finding something to kill time and _please_ don't set the car on fire."

The aspect of her face altered at my words. "Where are you going?"

"Where I should've been about ten minutes ago," I muttered as I threw the door open. "Stay here," I ordered, stepping out. "I didn't need you, I'll buy you food," I negotiated.

"Then why'd you bring me?" she asked, following suit and shutting the door behind her.

I sighed. "Because you're obstinate—and adorable," I blurted out mindlessly and her eyebrows furrowed at my wording.

"What?"

"I said your door is bulged," I made a sad attempt at covering it up, and to my surprise she bought it as she spun back to glance at the car.

"What does that mean? Is that a car term?" she demanded in confusion.

"Nothing. Get back in, you're wasting my time," I ushered with my hand.

She pursed her lips at the remark and I saw a clear challenge spark in her eyes. "I'm coming with you," she concluded and I understood I would have a better chance at discovering a cure to some fatal disease than to convince her otherwise.

"Of course you are," I acceded as I sautered forward with her pacing by my side and ultimately, as I lead her up the flat, by actually pushing her because she had suddenly acquired the pace of a sloth, she asked me something that made the most unexpected simper appear on my face.

"Just to be clear, you don't—_like_ this girl, do you?" she interviewed in a cautious manner, coming to a halt in front of me.

I looked down at her and her lingering gaze was preoccupied. "I'm more into feisty bitches," I ressured her with a wink as I surpassed her.

"_Huh_," I heard her muse out-loud. "Good."

And her relieved tone got a silent chuckle out of me.

"So, you just _happen _to know where she lives," she reflected as we stood before a wooden door yielding the apartment number that we were searching and I made one last confirmation from the text I received.

"I've got sources," I mumbled, pocketing my cell phone and delivering three quick raps on the entrance.

After about half a minute, the most rapid and expected scene took place: the door opened about mid-way, but when the person behind it made eye-contact with me—"_hey_—" I had barely started when it slammed right in my face and I heard the clear clicking of a lock.

I turned to Claire who was staring at me with an amused and entertained expression.

"Why are they _never_ happy to see me?" I questioned, exasperated.

"Even though your _such a joy_," she backed up, fighting a smile.

"I am not a violent person," I recited about a minute later as I sat down on the apartment floor, right in front of a pesky blonde girl with the highest pony-tail in the existence of time. "I always practice peace and negotiation," I continued as she addressed me with a sceptical glare. "But they _force_ me to do things the hard way," I claimed while glancing at Claire who was gaping at the distinctly sparking En that I had expanded around my subject and I with the most awed expression I had ever witnessed.

"Why the fuck are you here, Killua?"

"Yes, it's nice to see you too," I paused, scratching my head, "—darling, I forgot your name," I confessed with an apologetic smile.

She sighed. "Of course you did."

"_But_, I do remember it sounded like the name of some industrial solvent," I redeemed. "Is it Oxide?" I guessed, pointing to her.

"Onyx," she replied holding her lips in a tight line.

"Close enough," I rejoiced while briefly applauding.

"How long is this going to be?" she demanded, resting her chin on her palm.

"Only as long as you make it," I promised, crossing my legs and mimicking her position.

"What do you want?"

"I want," I highlighted, tilting my head. "Everything you have about Ging Freecss, _everything_."

"I already gave you the sole clue I had about him," she reminded, "did you find that Isawa guy?"

"Yes, I found the _slut_ you suggested and that is why I'm back here," I commented in a dull tone.

She sighed loudly and gave me a stern look. "So, you _naturally _assumed that I kept something from you," she proceeded to complete my thought.

I nodded in agreement. "Yes, you have a suspicious look, like those—" I ceased for a moment. "Hey, Claire," I called, turning to her. "What are those cartoon girls with the huge lips called?"

She stared back at me. "The Bratz?"

"Yes," I accepted, snapping my fingers and shifting back. "You look like the Bratz, I can not trust you."

I saw her cast a knowing glance at Claire and spun to see them nod at each other as if they had some sort of secret understanding. "Why would I withhold any information from you, it's like basically inviting you back and why would I do that?" she broke down every word separately while firmly scowling at me.

"I don't know." I shrugged. "—because, _this_?" I indicated with my hand from my face down to entire my body.

She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Why is it so hard for you guys to accept that a girl is simply _not_ interested in you?" she pleaded.

I rolled my eyes. "You're wasting my time, Barbie," I interjected. "And I could honestly just skip all of this and—"

"What are you doing?" she suddenly shot while looking behind me and I craned my neck to catch Claire sitting casually on a desk with a laptop.

She countered by raising her eyebrows and grimaced. "_What_? And I'm gonna take your word for it?" she challenged resuming her attention back to the screen.

"You'll never even get it to open," the girl fired back.

"Yes," she answered, not raising her sight. "_If_ I was trying to access it from another device _or_ I was an idiot—and _Uranus _is an incredibly lame password," she remarked. "Killua, _don't _make that joke," she warned before-hand just as I thought of the idea.

I responded by raising my hands in surrender.

"_Don't__—_" the blonde rebelled.

"Don't worry, I will not even touch anything that doesn't concern me," she assured. "The security you have on this thing is _amazing_," she commented, now looking up. "What software are you using?"

She sighed and pressed her hand to her forehead in defeat. "I don't know, I already had it integrated before I got it."

Claire blinked, as if offended by her confession. "Do you even know what you have in this?" Her voice had become high-pitched in disbelief, and then she lifted up the computer and scanned it's cover. "In the name of—this laptop has _military_ protection," she exclaimed while looking dumbfounded between her crowd.

"That's really not my thing," Onyx revealed in a raspy tone. "I hunt for information, I just needed somewhere to keep it safe."

"_Oh, God_," Claire kept gasping as her fingers clicked rapidly on the key-board. "What can you _not_ decrypt with this shit?"

At last, she stood up and slammed the portable shut while watching us. "I'm taking this," she announced.

"_What_?" Onyx bellowed, rising up and almost forgetting the barrier of electricity that separated them.

"Correction, I'm _borrowing_ this," Claire rephrased unabashed. "I haven't checked it yet and I need it, _and_ you'll have it back Monday; like I said, I'm not going to peruse through any irrelevant data," she finalised, passing a hand through her hair in a way that had me biting my tongue. "Let's go." And she indicated towards herself with a finger.

I raised an eyebrow and turned to Onyx, who was staring at her with her mouth wide open. "She's the boss." I shrugged while getting up. "Don't sweat it, Blondie," I reassured her as I put my hands in my pockets. "You'll get your baby back, but don't get any ideas about following us," I forewarned with a impertinent grin.

"Killua—"

"We have a commitment," I phrased heading towards the door, "and it will not be broken," I guaranteed, bidding her goodbye with an audacious salute and descending the stairs.

"Was that girl a Hunter?" Claire debriefed as she we reached the car.

I nodded as I grabbed the keys.

"Then why didn't she—well, fight you and stuff?"

"Becauase: _a_, she doesn't want to discontinue her life and _b_, she's more into snooping than punching," I informed as we both climbed in.

"So, it's like—you can take _any _profession, like _normal human _professions and _be_ that as a Hunter—just a lot more freakier?"

One corner of my mouth lifted up at her wording and looked at her. "Yeah."

"Then—what are _you_? Are you—like an enhanced form of an _electrician_?" she questioned and I swear to God, I kept laughing in the form of hysterical fits throughout the whole ride home.

* * *

Fortuitously, I found myself knocking at her door just several hours later. She emerged after a minute looking perplexed and indecisive as she registered my figure. "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't send me the files or tell me whether you found something in that laptop," I enlightened.

She blinked twice before speaking. "You could've called me."  
"I did, eight times; you were'nt picking up," I informed as I shed her an intricate glance. "Were you sleeping?" I inquired, taking in her dishevelled appearance.

"Uh—what? I think, I dozed off," she mumbled, rubbing her face consciously.

"It's eight in the evening," I notified, tilting my head. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing—I just fell asleep on the couch while checking that computer," she mumured, gesturing inside with her thumb.

"_Okay_?" I stated, processing the silence of the house as I took a step forward.

"Stop right there," she ceased, stretching her arm in front of the entrance. "I'm not inviting you in."

I gave her a confused stare. "Last time I checked, I wasn't a vampire, so I get that I can barge in?"

"You absolutely should not," she dismissed automatically.

"Why?"

"I'm alone in the house and very sexually attracted to you," she answered simply.

I gaped at her speechlessly for a moment. "Oh God, _no_— I am not doing drunk Claire tonight," I complained as I bent down to get a clear look at her eyes.

"Really? What kind of Claire are you _doing _then?" she suggested with a small smile. "I'm not drunk," she convinced, processing my annoyed expression.

"Okay, then how many fingers?" I demanded, holding three before her.

"Four," she evaluated, "if you count that bulge I'm looking at," she further added while looking down.

"Oh, shut up for fuck's sake," I pleaded, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Did you have dinner?"

"Uh—no, I did put some frozen mac and cheese in the microwave but—I'm not really sure what they had transitioned into in the end, so I threw them away," she specualted with a shrug.

"Why didn't you order something?"

"_Because_," she emphasised. "Beside the fact that the humming of the fridge had me wet my pants, I feel like I can not trust pizza guys when I'm home alone."

"Where's Hana?" I finally debriefed.

"She's out of town for two days, with Katie," she revealed, hugging herself.

"She left _you _alone?" I questioned in disbelief. "Is—is that your alibi for Monday?" I proceeded to consider.

"What? No, she had business trip," she justified. "And _yes_ Killua, there actually are _coincidences_ in this world, I didn't do anything."

I sighed, walking past her and taking off my jacket. "How the hell did you convince Hana to leave you on your own?"

She shut the door behind her and acquired a pensive expression as if she was testing out in her mind whether she could get away with lying. "I told her I had a friend coming over."

I pressed my hand to my forehead. "Are you hungry?"

"Yeah but I don't really wanna go outside," she replied, taking in a glimpse of the lounge. "You want a coffee or something?"

"You don't _know _how to make coffee," I reminded her.

She frowned at me in response. "I can google it."

I rolled my eyes as I threw my jacket on the couch and headed to the kitchen.

"What are you doing?"

"Making your dumb ass dinner," I apprised as she paced to me.

"You don't have to do that," she updated, staring at me as I opened the refrigerator to check the contents.

"Do I?" I continued, now rummaging through the freezer and taking out a packet of frozen hamburger patties.

She climbed on the counter and kept watching me with a kind of affection in her eyes that left me a bit breathless.

"What?" I asked, looking up at her.

"You're beautiful," she told me bluntly, her gaze clear and unflinching.

And making an addition to the very limited moments in my life, she left me speechless, because I sincerely had no answer or retort to that.

So, she filled the silence with her chatter until we sat down on the sofa as I flipped through the channels and she devoured her food while making snarky comments about a particular tv show that caused her anxiety.

"What exactly is this though?" I asked while looking at the nasty, fuming brown liquid that was placed on the table before me as she ate.

"Coffee," she postulated, glaring at me as a result of my grimace.

"No offense, but the only thing this would be good for, would be to spill on my shirt so I'd take it off," I opnied, sniffing it and drawing back because it smelled _nothing _like coffee.

She stopped chewing and looked at me for a moment as if she had been challenged to something.

"Claire, _no_—" I started my eyes widening as I tried to shift back but she knocked the cup out of my hand enough to make the liquid trail down my shirt before I caught it.

"What? I _do_ want to see you take your shirt off," she acknowledged as an answer to the silent glare I was addressing her with.

I took a very deep breath and shut my eyes.

"Say it," she invited with a smile in her voice.

"_Bitch_," I ultimately cursed.

"There," she spoke while getting up and heading to the stairs.

"Where are you going now?"

"I think I still have one of your shirts," she recalled, while ascending. "—from when we were together," she said additionally in the most casual manner ever before taking a glimpse of my guise. "What, is there a taboo on it now?"

I shook my head with a silent groan until she came back down and threw me one of my old black v-necks. "Why'd you keep it?" I questioned as I began undoing my buttons.

"I sniff it every night before going to bed," she narrated with a bored expression.

I tried to keep a serious face as I took off my shirt, but paused mid-action when I saw the shameless ogle that she was directing at my body. "Should I take my pants off too?" I offered sarcastically.

"Yes, please," she replied with no hesitation. "_What_? I've never seen your shirtless," she rationalised when I kept scowling.

"Yes you have," I cued, removing the garment from my shoulders.

"Okay, but I wanted to decease you then, so it doesn't count."

I rolled my eyes, then grabbed the clean shirt and pulled it on, feeling a certain amount of heat radiate to my face on being aware of her stare. When I turned to her, she was slightly grinning.

"You're blushing," she notified, biting her lower lip.

"Shut up," I told her and tried to compose myself, but it became incredibly hard when she walked up to me and traced her fingers on my visage as if she was trying to assess my emotions through her touch.

"What do you feel when you look at me?" she debriefed, her eyes curious and hungry.

My lips slightly parted at the closeness and for a moment, I couldn't remember how to talk; reflexively, I took her hand and placed it on my chest, and she felt it loud and clear: the force with which my heart was abusing my ribcage.

But her face fell and the spark in her irises died away as she began to blink furiously. "And—_this_ isn't enough to make you change your mind?" she whispered as her fingers trembled.

I sighed and closed my eyes, feeling her anger radiate on my skin. "Claire—I can not be selfish with you, why can't you understand that?"

"I _want_ you to be be selfish with me," she protested through clenched teeth, rage burning in her eyes.

I drew in a weak breath and stepped back. "I am not having this conversation with you again."

"Why won't you admit it?" she shot back, "why the hell won't you admit that this is stupid and you're an idiot, and eventually you're going to kiss me and fuck this up because your flawless self-control will turn into shit—and when that happens, you're going end this meaningless war that's going on for no reason at all."

"Don't delude yourself," I rejected, pressing my fingers to my temple.

"Then say it, say that you'll lose," she nudged.

I shook my head with a bitter smile. "Is this is a bet?"

"Yeah, it is," she assured, scowling up at me. "Say it, unless you're a coward."

My jaw tightened at her provocation. "Fine, you win—but only if _I_ kiss you," I clarified, indicating with my hands.

"And you'll stop running away from me?" she prompted.

"Yeah, I'll take you regardless of whatever consequences there are."

"Because it'll be my decision," she further completed, raising her eyebrows.

"Because it will be your decision," I agreed, nodding at her demands, which was followed up by a long silent stare.

"Good," she voiced out finally and plopped down on the couch again, making it seem like her prior loss of control was just an act.

"I should go," I said, checking the time, "thanks for the—er, insult of coffee," I annexed making sure she caught the edge in my voice.

She rested her chin of her palm and looked at me. "Stay."

"I can't, you're very sexually attracted to me, remember?" I played, crossing my arms behind my neck.

"I think I can tame my hormones for one night. Besides I'm alone, you don't want me to die of a cardiac arrest, do you?"

"I don't know, do I?" I considered, receiving an eye roll in return as I paced to her and sat down to her side.

"You're so complicated, Killua," she confessed, automatically resting her head on my shoulder.

"Did you say complicated, or consummated?" I jested and was rewarded with a smack on the arm.

"That is the stupidest joke you have come up with yet and it doesn't even make any sense," she remarked, annoyed.

"You love my jokes."

"I _hate_ your jokes, just accept the fact that you're _not _funny," she encouraged.

"Don't be jealous Claire, we are what we are. You're a douchebag, I'm hilarious," I reasoned, fueling the tirade.

And I can't remember how long we kept arguing on that particular subject, but I do remember falling asleep with her hand on my heart.

_Passion rests in the soul, and honesty in the eye,_

_for emotions are firm laws that even the mind can't deny._


End file.
